Zero's Bullet
by The Woodsman
Summary: The Huntress has escaped her Zamiel. Now she finds herself trapped on an unfamiliar world where nothing makes sense. What's more, she has become the contracted familiar to a no talent young mage known as the Zero. This is a story of blood, gore, madness and carnage. This is the story of Zero's Bullet.
1. Chapter 1

**I. Escaping Zamiel**

The night sky was dark, the warm ocean air filled with the stench of burning flesh. Out in the middle of the English channel, upon the flaming wreckage of a once great warship, two monsters did battle. One of the combatants was a tall, thin bespectacled woman with long dark hair; she was dressed in an ill-fitting suit, one that would have looked fitting on a more masculine form than hers. The other figure was much less human, appearing more like a living nightmare than a man. His dark red coat writhed about him as if alive, and his lanky form was cloaked in shadows. Upon his face was a grotesque and predatory smile, one that spoke of unending hunger and depraved desire.

The woman, her body barely able to contain the trembling from the sheer terror she felt, managed somehow to stand firm against her enemy. Her blue eyes, almost glowing in the shadows caused by the flickering inferno raging on around them, shone with steely defiance at the beast. The ultimate effect of her dark glare was lessened somewhat because of her cheeks, which were still wet from recently shed tears. Firming her resolve, the woman raised her weapon, an immensely long flintlock musket, and aimed its sights towards the smiling monster in front of her. Her enemy's smirk only widened in amusement upon seeing her bravery, his sharp grin and vile stare all but goading her into attacking.

"Tinker, tailor, soldier, sailor," the dark haired woman recited, her words tinged with a German accent. "My bullet punishes all vithout distinction!" With the utterance of her battle hymn done, the trigger was pulled, flint struck the pan, and the resulting spark ignited the black powder sending musket ball rocketing out of the barrel at impossible speeds. The simple lead ball raced forwards so fast that it looked like a blazing beam of blue light in the darkness.

The monster barely grunted as the ball slammed into his shoulder and exited the flesh and bone easily, like a hot knife stabbing through butter. The bullet changed trajectory in mid-air, zipping across the area and hurtling itself back at the man; impossibly, the projectile seemed to be moving even _faster _upon each change in direction. It pierced his body yet again, the large wound spraying scarlet blood across the flight deck of the carrier. The musket ball quickly performed its impossible dance once more, twisting about through the air, blue after image racing through the night, before yet again mercilessly tearing through its target.

"Again!" shouted the woman desperately as her magical bullet slammed and pierced into the monster. "Again! Again! Again!" She continued to scream. Her gambit was a desperate one. The only weakness of the beast before her that she knew of was its inability to cross water; if she could manage to push him off the flight deck and into the English Channel below then she might have a chance at surviving. Over and over her bullet battered her foe, pushing it backwards, ever so slowly, towards the edge of the deck. Finally, as his feet were mere steps away from the edge, the bullet raced forwards, only one last blow needed to send him overboard. "DIE UND GO TO HELL!"

But before the final strike could be dealt, a loud vicious and metallic clang echoed across the deck. The woman shrieked in terror as the man lifted his head and grinned, showing her musket ball caught tightly in between rows of razor sharp teeth. "Guess what I just caught?" he asked her, his ragged voice sending pulses of cold dread down her spine. With a brutal show of strength he crushed the metal ball with his teeth, then spit the fragments out. "I... caught... _you. _Rip. Van. Winkle." Each syllable was spoken slowly, with utter relish. It was obvious that the monster derived exquisite pleasure from her complete and absolute defeat.

The woman whimpered in dismay as the demon in red stepped closer and closer, his hands held out like talons ready to grasp. Her mind screamed at her to run, but her shaking legs would not obey. She wanted to scream and beg him for mercy, but she knew that such a creature as he was incapable of it. She was absolutely certain that fleeing or pleading for her life would only result in prolonging her upcoming agony. The best she could hope for right now was a quick death.

_No,_ her mind shouted at her. _No! It couldn't end like this! Not like this!_

She couldn't die! Not here, not now, not when Millenium was so close to achieving their revenge! She wanted to see London burning! She wanted to be there when Britain fell! She wanted to see the fear in the eyes of the Americans and the Russians when they saw their old ally brutally raped and devoured, knowing full well that Millenium was coming for them next. She wanted to see the flag of the Third Reich flying over the ruins of the great cities of the world, and fight in the eternal, glorious war that the Major had promised her.

No. No, that wasn't entirely true, a calmer part of herself noted. She had always prided herself on being a loyal soldier in Millenium's ranks. She was, after all, one of the organization's original members. But that wasn't the real reason she wanted to live. Pride and nationalism were her mantras, but at the moment, with the pure embodiment of the Black Hunter steadily advancing towards her, she couldn't have cared less about any of it. The truth was, she was scared. What she wanted above all else was to survive. She didn't want to die, especially not at the hands of _him. _She didn't wish to face a horrible and painful death, and that was exactly the kind of death she would suffer from at his hands. His eyes, his terrible glowing red eyes, promised a death so horrifying and terrible that all thoughts of the Major, Millenium, and every grand ideal ever put forth into her head since joining the ranks of the Third Reich had vanished.

_Help me! _Her mind silently cried out, praying for the first time in over fifty years. _God, help me!_ She whimpered in fear as the monster approached. _Please, please, please, someone help me! HELP ME!_

As if in answer to her silent prayer, a burst of green light flickered forth from the dark, appearing directly in front of her. It soon solidified into a large, ovular portal, bathing her startled face in an emerald glow. The appearance of the strange spacial rupture caused the monster to stop in his tracks as well, the dark features of his twisted face twitching in confusion. Before he could react further, the woman took the opportunity presented to her. She was a cornered animal, facing complete and utter destruction. Now that escape was in front of her, she showed no hesitation.

Gripping her musket tightly in her arms, the woman leapt.

As her body fell through the infinite haze between worlds, and just before the green portal sealed shut behind her, her ears were assaulted by a frightening, inhuman roar from the monster. The hellish sound held the fury and the anger and the madness of a million tormented souls, each of whom were decrying the unfairness of being deprived of their meal.

As she fell, Rip Van Winkle felt terror seize her heart. Terror, as well as giddy exhilaration upon realizing that she had actually escaped her Zamiel.


	2. Chapter 2: Familiar of Zero

**II. Familiar of Zero**

Smoke once more filled the grounds of the Tristain Magic Academy's courtyard, causing the assembled students to cough and fret at the thick dust floating in the air. There were murmurs of irritation from the teenagers, all of which were directed upon the short, pink-haired girl standing before them.

_No, no, not again!_ Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliere felt complete and utter frustration. It had been her second try at summoning a familiar, and she had failed yet again. It wasn't fair! All of her classmates had managed to complete their summoning rituals, and each of them had their loyal animal servants standing right by their sides. Dogs, cats, even a bugbear and a dragon, of all things, had been summoned, but for some reason Louise could not even manage to call forth a simple cockroach for all her trouble. Nothing but dust and explosions met her pleas.

"Well, Louise, I can't say I'm too surprised. Failed again." Kirche said aloud with a grin. Hateful, insufferable Kirche! Damn her!

"Ha, at least she's predictable! That's our Zero! Haha!" Damn you, too, Malicorn!

Louise quickly spun around and sent a pleading look at the middle aged balding man that was her instructor. "Professor Colbert! Please! Let me try one more time! Just once more, I swear I can do it!"

The mage sighed, adjusting his pince-nez further up the bridge of his nose as he attempted to look stern. "Miss Valliere..."

"_Please!_" Louise begged desperately, the beginnings of tears making her eyes watery.

The professor sighed once more, before relenting and nodding his approval.

That was all the permission Louise needed and she quickly turned her attention back to the summoning circle. She raised up her wand and tried to clear her mind, knowing full well that she had just one last final shot at summoning a familiar.

"Oh come now, Louise," complained a girl with ringlets in her blond hair. "Must you continue to waste our time?"

"Yeah," spoke up the rotund boy from before. "You're just making yourself look even stupider."

"Enough," chided Professor Colbert. "All of you, please show the patience and respect that Miss Valliere had shown during each of your attempts. It is unbecoming of nobles to behave with such discourtesy."

The man's words managed to quiet all of the teasing and half-veiled insults, for which Louise was very thankful for. If she were to succeed in this final attempt, she would need all of her concentration. After clearing her mind, she began to channel her magic into her focus, then started the incantation.

"Servant which exists somewhere within this vast universe," _Please please please work, _the girl desperately prayed as she chanted."My divine, beautiful and powerful servant, heed my call!" _Founder! Please please please!_ "I wish from the very bottom of my heart! Heed my summoning and appear!"

There was a mighty inrush of air, followed by another massive explosion.

"Agh! Not again!" Complained Malicorn as smoke and dust clouded the area.

"Damn it, Zero! You did it again!"

"What a worthless mage!"

"Pitiful!"

"Pathetic!"

The taunts and abuse continued on, but Louise ignored all of them. What her classmates didn't seem to notice was that unlike her previous failures something about this explosion was different. For one thing, it had been much larger and the resulting smoke much thicker. For another, she could see that there was _something_ within the smoke, something that was moving!

_I did it! _Louse cried out triumphantly in her mind. _I summoned a familiar! I'm not a failure! I'm not a burden! I am a mage of note, just like my sisters! Just like my mother!_

Then, from within the dense smoke, the sound of desperate laughter could be heard.

0

After what seemed like eons of falling through nothingness, Rip Van Winkle felt the world reform all around her. What was once unending blackness was now bright, and she felt her eternal fall stop as her body hit soft but solid ground. She quickly shifted herself up into a seated position and looked around her. There was still much dust and smoke floating in the air, but beyond the filth and dirt she could make out trees and bushes and the glorious-yet-hated sun shining overhead. A choked gasp, made up of both exaltation and relief, burst up from her throat as she beheld the impossible spectacle before her. With her vampiric senses she could feel numerous humans nearby, along with several animals of one type or another, but they didn't matter to her. What caught her total attention was the complete and utter absence of the nightmarish monstrosity that had only moments before been so close to ending her life. She probed out with her mind, seeking any sign of the evil which had previously assailed her, but she could find not a single trace of his dark taint. There was no feeling of madness or hunger from the beast, not within one kilometer or twenty. Not a single speck of his hideous aura could be found. He was gone.

He was gone! It was like magic! A miracle! She was free!

She drooped forwards in relief, her hands slamming down onto the soft earth below which prevented the woman from planting her face into the soil. Beneath her gloved fingers she felt the prickly texture of grass. The sun overhead felt warm and somewhat painful upon her pale skin. She could hear the songs of birds in the distance. There was a slight breeze, and the air, through the dust, felt cool and clean. She had been saved. Saved from the hellish scene upon the Adler, saved from the grasp of her Zamiel. She was safe.

Tears began to leak from her eyes. Tears of relief. Tears of joy. Death had been so close. So _close._ Yet she had beaten it. She had escaped. She was free.

A sob escaped her throat. It was quickly followed by another. Then another. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as she wept, not in fear and absolute terror as she had back on the burning aircraft carrier, but in elation. As the fear and tenseness of the previous hours vanished, her sobbing transformed slowly into laughter. It was quiet at first, but then it grew louder and louder. Soon she was cackling like a mad woman.

She was free! She was safe!

0

When the smoke cleared, the sight which greeted the second year students was bizarre to say the least. Seated upon the grass was not some beast or animal, but a human being. It was a woman with long dark hair dressed in strange black garments. She was hunched over, her dark blue hair covering her pale features like a black curtain, and she was laughing maniacally at who knew what. Lying beside the strange figure was a large ornate musket, which only served to add to the students' confusion.

"Great, Zero summoned a mad woman."

"Is she a commoner? Her clothing appears to be much too finely made."

"Of course she's a commoner. Look, she has a musket. Only peasants would use such dirty weapons."

"Yes, she's probably a low-class merchant, or the mercenary of one. How uncouth."

Whilst her classmates continued to debate upon the strange sight, Louise felt her stomach clench in dismay. _This_ was her divine, beautiful and powerful familiar? No! She refused to believe it!

"Professor Colbert!" Louise whirled around once more to address her instructor, who along with everyone else was trying to make sense of the weird newcomer in their midst. "Please! Let me try the summoning ritual again!"

"What?" Colbert was snapped out of his ponderings by the young girl's request. "No, absolutely not!"

"But Professor!"

"No, Miss Valliere," Colbert's tone was hard with finality. "The Springtime Summoning Ritual is a sacred rite passed down throughout the ages by the Founder Brimir himself. To try it again after successfully summoning a familiar is tantamount to blasphemy."

"But Professor," whined Louise, "I can't have summoned her! She's a commoner!"

"Be that as it may, Miss Valliere, summon her you did. I saw it with my own eyes. I admit, this is one for the books. But human or not, commoner or not, the rules are clear. She is your familiar now, and thus your responsibility." The man gave the girl a stern glare. "Now if you would, please. Complete the ritual."

"B-but..."

"_Now_, Miss Valliere." His tone brokered no argument.

With a put-upon sigh that all teenagers somehow manage to master, Louise stomped her small form over to the center of the summoning ring where the crazy laughing woman was still seated. Once she was but a foot away, the woman ceased her laughter and looked up as if startled. Louise ceased her approach as well, as she was stunned by the sudden movement.

Louise was surprised to notice that her new familiar looked to be no more than a few years older than herself. She also wore a pair of round spectacles over her dark blue eyes, the lenses of which appeared to be stained with fresh tears. Now why would her familiar have been crying whilst laughing with such mad glee at the same time?

Louise shook off her questions and focused on the task at hand. She had to complete the ritual.

"Ich... verstehe das nicht," the woman said, her blue eyes wide in confusion. Although she didn't understand a word of what was said, Louise, to her great consternation, recognized the language.

"Great," she muttered in irritation, "just what this Academy needs. Another Germanian idiot." Louise sighed before announcing loudly to her new familiar. "Alright, commoner. You should feel honored. Not every plebian gets to serve a Valliere."

The woman frowned at her words before speaking once more, this time in highly accented Tristanian. "I sill... do not understand. Vat are you talking about?"

"Oh, so you do speak Tristanian. Good, this will make things easier."

"Tristanian? Vhat are you saying? We are speaking French."

By the Founder, this woman truly _was_ insane! Louse let out another long-suffering sigh. "Look, it doesn't matter. I summoned you here, so I need to complete the ritual!"

"Vait..." the woman narrowed her eyes at Louise, her frown tightening even more. "It was you who brought me to zis place?"

"Um... yes?" Louise said. She suddenly shrieked when the woman shot to her feet and grabbed her into the tightest embrace she had ever been in; Louise was quite certain that a few of her bones were breaking.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, little girl! Danke! Danke! Ha ha ha!" The crazy woman then began twirling Louise around in her arms as she danced about the courtyard in absolute joy. "Oh, ve are going to be ze best of friends!"

"Put me down you maniac!" Louise shouted as she was tossed about into the air like a toddler. Good God this freak was strong!

Meanwhile the rest of the second year students merely looked on in both bewildered wonder and horrified fascination.

"Put me down now!" Louise screamed once more.

"Oh, of course. So sorry, I do tend to get a little carried avay sometimes." The crazy woman gently placed Louise down onto her feet. The young girl was a bit shocked to realize just how tall her familiar was. She was almost as tall as her mother! "There ve go, little vizard. You are so adorable!" The crazy woman grinned and began patting Louise on the head.

The girl twitched in annoyance and began batting her hands away. "Gah! S-stop treating me like a child, you insane commoner!"

"Oh, uv course, uv course!" The woman's smile grew even wider as she stood up straight and laughed. "You are a big girl. My mistake."

"Y-y-you!" Louise, at this point, was livid. "Stop patronizing me!"

Professor Colbert chose that moment to interrupt in hopes of getting things back on track. "Um, pardon me..."

The strange woman, still with a beaming smile, turned her attention to the professor while Louise continued to sputter in abject rage. "Hmm?"

"Ah, hello. I am Professor Colbert, Instructor at this academy."

"Guten Tag!" The woman cheerily greeted and gave the professor a stiff bow along with a somewhat militaristic boot-click. "I am Rip Van Winkle, Officer of ze Millenium Group. I vant to thank you so much for your assistance. You really got me out of quite ze spot."

"Oh, um, you are very welcome, Miss, uh, van Winkle." Professor Colbert coughed politely to clear his throat. This woman was quite peculiar. Not only was her clothing and appearance strange, but her accent was bizarre. The Germanian she spoke earlier was also off, as he didn't recognize the dialect at all. And what exactly was this Millenium Group? He had never heard of such an organization. Ah, he was getting side-tracked; first thing's first! "Well, I'm afraid we aren't done yet. Miss Valiere still needs to complete the ritual."

"Oh?" The woman glanced over at Louise, who seemed to have gotten over her funk upon hearing the professor's words. "Oh! Of course! Of course!" She quickly clapped and turned to face the pink haired girl. "You must complete ze ritual! Fine, fine! It's ze least I could do, since you helped me out and all." She gave Louise a smile and stood waiting.

The young girl looked up at her nervously, her eyes glancing back over at the Professor while a red flush sprouted upon her cheeks.

"Go ahead, Ms. Vallier," said her teacher.

"Yeah, Zero. Go ahead!" laughed a boy from the crowd.

Louise blushed even more, and several of the male students nearby snickered. Steeling her nerves, the girl stood up straight and raised her wand. "Pentagon of the Five Elemental Powers, bless this humble being and bind her as my familiar." With those words, Louise tapped the woman upon her forehead with the tip of her wand.

"Vait... What?!" Before she could say more, the young girl in front of her grabbed the taller woman by the lapels of her jacket before pulling her down and planting a chaste kiss upon her lips. "V-v-what?"

Louise quickly turned away totally mortified, her face beet red in embarrassment. The male students began to hoot and holler.

The newly minted familiar ignored all of them though, as she was suddenly assailed by a strong, stinging pain. Grasping her left wrist, she hissed aloud in agony. "Vat is going on here? Ouch! OUCH! Owowowowow!" She grit her teeth in obvious pain, desperately pulling off the white glove from her left hand. She watched in stupefied shock as before her very eyes a set of very intricate runes began to appear upon her skin, branding themselves into her flesh. After a few more moments of intense agony, the pain stopped and the runes stopped glowing.

"Congratulations, Miss Valliere. You failed the Summon Servant spell twice, but you completed Bind Servant in just one try. Good work." Professor Colbert sounded genuinely pleased.

Louise beamed, extremely pleased at hearing such rare words of praise. But her moment of self congratulation was cut short when her new familiar suddenly began shouting.

"Vhat have you maniacs done to me?!" She screamed out shrilly, holding her left hand up and displaying the runes.

0

Rip Van Winkle snarled at the assembled humans, both teacher and students, absolutely livid. There was no way this could have happened to her! It shouldn't have! How could she have been so stupid?

At first, Rip had been overjoyed at escaping the Adler, and was completely grateful to the child whom had rescued her. It was at first a bit of a shock to learn that someone so young could be such a powerful practitioner of the occult, but she had seen stranger things in her time. She really didn't understand magic all that well, and the times she had asked Alhambra and Zorin to elaborate on their mystical talents only left her even more confused.

Of course, she had let her emotions get the better of her again. The Major had always told her that she needed to watch herself more, and not get carried away in the moment. She had tried her very best to follow his advice, but she just couldn't help herself most times. And now, it had cost her.

Now she was bound.

_Like him,_ she bitterly thought. Her Zamiel, the horrifying monster of her nightmares, had also gotten caught hadn't he? He too was bound and made the dog of the Hellsing family. How utterly ironic that she would share the same fate as the thing she so feared and despised.

"I'm sorry, Miss van Winkle," the professor stated in a calm tone. "This is merely part of the ritual. I apologize for whatever pain you may have suffered, but it's all completely harmless." He then looked closely at the runes on her hand. "Hmm... fascinating. These runes are quite strange. Quite strange indeed." The balding man continued to stare at the back of her hand, which only served to infuriate her even more.

"Verdammt noch mal!" Rip shouted, angrily stuffing her left hand back inside its glove. "I-" Before she could say any more, her eyes glanced past the assembled students and caught sight of the collection of animals with them. There was a dog, a cat, some birds, even a frog. But what caught her eye was the large blue lizard with wings that was sitting next to a blue-haired little girl who had her nose stuffed into a book. "What ze hell is that!?" She shouted. She then quickly spotted another strange animal, this one looking like a komodo dragon with a flaming tail. "Und that!?" She also saw an even stranger sight, that of a gigantic floating eyeball. "I don't even vant to know what zat monstrosity is!"

"Familiar!" The pink haired girl shouted, the one Rip had thought was her savior. "Calm yourself! Right now!"

Her eyes turned cold, which caused the professor to flinch. Rip Van Winkle stood up straight to her full 5'11" height and gave the assembled crowd a fierce glare through the round lenses of her spectacles. She was so incredibly tempted to just do away with all of them; after all, they were merely humans, mostly children at that. It would have been easy for her to rip all of them to pieces even without firing a single shot from her jezail. But the Major's words came to her again, those warning her against acting too rashly. Even though these people were human, they were also sorcerers. Magic users could be unpredictable and powerful, as Alhambra and Zorin proved. It would be unwise to attack occultists when she knew so little about their abilities.

Her now calm eyes shifted through the crowd and beyond, taking in the scene around her for the first time since her arrival. They all seemed to be in a large, grassy area. Tall,thick trees were in the background. Wait, was that a castle? Her left eye twitched. How the hell had she missed that?

Her eyes continued upwards, staring up into the blue sky. Her vampiric sight quickly focused on something in the distance. Like the viewfinder on a camera, her eyes zoomed in sharply on the object. In this case, it was two objects. Moons, to be precise. They were faint, but they were there, visible through the clouds and the blue haze of the bright open sky.

Two Moons. Two.

"Scheisse!" Rip whimpered as she dropped to her knees and clutched at her head. "Vat ze hell have I gotten myself into now?"


	3. Chapter 3: Bound

**III. Bound**

_Bound. Slave. In chains. A dog. Not free._

These thoughts and more clouded the vampire sniper's mind as she stared forlornly out of her jailer's bedroom window. The sun had just set, and overhead the two gigantic moons hung; to her the two celestial objects were painful reminders of her current state. She was no longer on Earth. She was on another planet, or another dimension, or who knew what. The Doktor often went on insane diatribes about quantum physics and parallel universes, but she never bothered to listen. She couldn't really be blamed for this since such moments were often just the mad scientist ranting to himself and much of his babbling made absolutely no sense. At the moment though she regretted not listening more closely to the maniacal genius, as now she had no idea just how she would make it back home.

Rip Van Winkle was an _Obersturmführer_ in the Third Reich's Last Betallion. She was an officer of the Millenium Group. She was a member of the elite Werewolf division. It was her duty to return to Earth and aid the Major in his war against Britain. It was a goal they had been working on for over fifty years, she couldn't miss it!

Sadly, she had to consider the fact that she had failed her last mission; the monster had taken back the Adler and slaughtered all of the men she had onboard, after all. But, like any good soldier, she was prepared to take whatever consequences came. She felt that the Major would be fair in his punishment; hopefully it wouldn't be too severe. Rip figured that if he was truly so displeased with her, then he would have activated her kill chip before now. Since she wasn't a pile of ash, then he couldn't have been too angry with her, could he?

But then again, what was the range of Dok's kill switch? It had to be quite long, since he had used it on Alhambra and the man was all the way in Brazil. But Rip was in a different dimension or planet entirely; she doubted very much that the Doktor's technology, as advanced as it was, could reach that far.

"Scheiße," she muttered, leaning against her musket mournfully as she stared up at the twin moons. "Vhat the hell am I to do?"

"Dammit, familiar! Are you even listening to me?" shouted a grating female voice behind her.

Rip sighed and tilted her head back, forcing her dulled and depressed eyes to focus on her so-called master. The pink-haired girl was currently standing in the middle of her room looking furious at her new familiar. She had been ranting and raving about how much of a disappointment Rip was, on how she was so embarrassed, on how she didn't want a commoner or whatever as a familiar, but Rip herself didn't bother to listen very well. The rantings of an irritating child held little merit for her at the moment; after all, she had much more important things to worry about.

_Mein Gott, is the little fool still talking? _Rip wondered to herself as she noticed the girl's lips were still moving.

"Well?!" the teenager yelled at the end of whatever it was she had been saying. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

The sniper sighed and stood straight up. She needed to get out of here and fast, before she ended up tearing her little enslaver's throat out. "I'm going for a valk."

"What?! G-get back here! Familiar!"

Rip ignored her shrieking, calmly walking out of the room and into the dark, candle-lit hallway outside. She frowned at the sight; although her vampire eyes were quite well suited for the darkness and thus she was able to see very clearly despite the shadows, she was still disgusted at the level of technology in this place. "How absolutely primitive," she muttered. "Vhat a bunch of barbarians."

The vampire continued to meander through the castle halls, her mood sour and full of depression. The hallways were long and labyrinthine but that didn't worry Rip very much; she could still sense her "master" from where she was so she was confident she could find her way back to the room if need be. Besides, ever since she received those runes, her already heightened senses had all but quadrupled. She had first noticed back at the courtyard; after the professor and her summoner managed to calm her down, they convinced her to follow the little girl (Louise! That was her name) back to her room so that she could have a rest. Ha! Rest! As if she could do that whilst the little schlampe kept on ranting and raving at her about stupid, idiotic things. Plus she didn't even have a bed! The arrogant little fool actually expected her to sleep on the floor atop a pile of hay! Like a dog!

But back at the courtyard, when Rip had bent down to pick up her musket, she felt it happen. Upon her fingertips touching the solid, polished wood of the weapon, she felt the runes beneath her glove flare to life. She quickly noticed that all her senses had improved: sight, sound, touch, even her preternatural sixth sense. It had already been powerful, even by vampiric standards, but now it was like her inner third eye had been opened even further. She could push out her senses to even greater distances. She could now feel the birds, the beetles, the insects, the worms; even the smallest of animals could not hide from her. Pushing with her mind further out, she could feel a large collection of human souls which could only mean a city several kilometers away. Beyond that mass of lives were several smaller settlements and villages.

Whatever these runes were, they had just made the Huntress of Millennium an even greater force to be reckoned with. This though made her smile and almost forget about her annoying, loud, and irritating master. Almost.

As Rip continued her night stroll through the grounds, she spotted two students in a shadowy alcove. One was a girl, a mousy-looking thing with brown hair and a brown cloak. She was being wooed by a blond boy in an open-necked white shirt and black cloak. The boy reminded her of Luke Valentine.

Valentine and his brother Jan were one of the newer additions to Millenium. The elder Valentine too had been all suave and debonaire, though in this boy's case it was mostly a sham. Luke, though a prat and arrogantly full of himself due to his powers, could still be quite charming and had the air of worldliness about him that made one forgive his faults. (He was also very nice to look at.) This boy, however, was more of a parody than the genuine article. He spat out flowery words like a bad comedian on stage, his romantic lines obviously well practiced and rehearsed. Sadly, the girl was young and naive and fell hook line and sinker for the would-be lothario's act. The poor fool would probably be spreading her legs for him at the end of the night, giving up her innocence to the arschloch before being tossed away afterward.

Oh well, not her problem.

The vampire strode past them, her footfalls silent enough that she went by unnoticed. Rip idly wondered what time it was, and cursed silently when she remembered what had happened to her alarm clock. She grew even more depressed upon recollection of its dire fate; she loved that clock. It was so _cute._ The moment she had seen it at that shop window in Rio she knew she had to have it. Her eyes watered at the memory.

Her free hand, the one that wasn't carrying her musket, grasped at the swastika pendant hanging around her neck. She sighed and said a silent prayer to her departed timepiece. "Rest in peace, old friend."

Rip was so preoccupied with her delusions that as she turned past a corner in the hall, she accidentally bumped into another person who was passing through from the other side. Said person was knocked back on their behind and let out a girlish squeal of surprise. The vampire looked down and saw a young woman in a maid's uniform sprawled out on the floor.

"Ow," the young servant complained before noticing Rip. "O-oh, I'm extremely sorry! Excuse me!" She quickly shuffled up to her feet and bowed in apology. "I am so clumsy sometimes, please forgive me!"

"It's... alright," Rip told her.

The young woman was slightly older than most of the students she had seen so far, and curiously enough was the only one with black hair that she had met on this world. Said hair was cut into a cute style, its ends just brushing against her delicate shoulders. She also had slightly Asiatic features, which reminded Rip of her Fatherland's allies way back in the war. "My, my, aren't you a pretty one?" she told the maid, her lips widening into a lazy smile.

"Oh, um, thank you, my lady," the maid returned the strange woman's smile nervously. She didn't like how the other girl was looking at her. Her smile looked positively... predatory. The maid then gasped when she noticed the woman's musket and weirdly styled clothing. "Oh my! You're that human familiar all the students have been talking about, aren't you?"

Rip's smile widened. "Vhy, yes. I am. My name is Rip Van Winkle." She shifted her gun onto her shoulder and reached out to grasp the young maid's hand in hers. "A pleasure to meet you. Und you are?"

"Ah, um, ah," the maid blushed as Rip leaned in uncomfortably close. "Sorry, my name is Siesta. Siesta of Tarbes..."

"Siesta. Such a pretty, pretty name," the sniper told her, blue eyes staring intently into the maid's. "For such a pretty, pretty flower..."

"Um, um, um," Siesta looked extremely anxious, her nerves not at all helped when one of Rip's arms suddenly curved around her waist. "Ah! Um, um, um! Is th-there anything I can help you with?"

"Vhy yes, there is," Rip told her, grin devilishly wide. "I'm very, very hungry."

"Oh, I can take you to the kitchens if you wish! It's really no problem, I'm sure they're still open!"

The vampire chuckled and licked her lips. "Oh no. That von't be necessary."

0

Kirche Augusta Frederica von Anhalt-Zerbst woke up feeling very refreshed. The previous day's summoning ritual had gone very well, as she had managed to summon such a great and wonderful familiar! Flame, her magnificent fire salamander, was such a beauty! His being her familiar not only proved that her affinity was of the fire element, but it cemented her passions as the brightest burning of all!

She was also happy for her dear friend Tabitha. The quiet girl had truly impressed when she summoned such a magnificent dragon. She hoped that now that Tabitha had a familiar she could maybe learn to come out of her shell a little bit. Although she never showed it, Kirche was very worried for the girl's well being. She didn't know the full story of what her friend had been going through, but she had heard enough to make her concerned.

Another bright note was that prissy little fool Valliere's summons. It was utterly hilarious watching her rival fail; it served that snobbish little princess right to be knocked down a peg or two. But honestly! The nerve of her to actually have the gall to hire some commoner (a Germanian no less!) to pose as her familiar! How utterly shameless can a girl be?

"Come, Flame!" Kirche called out to her familiar after she had gotten dressed. The salamander croaked before following the tall redhead out the door. In the hallway, leaning against the wall next to Valliere's door, was the crazy woman from yesterday's summoning. She was still dressed in her strange black attire and still carried around a giant musket. Her dark blue, almost black, hair hung far down, well below her knees, and her freckled face had a far-away look to it as her eyes stared blankly out of an open window nearby. What actually caught Kirche's attention though was the fact that the woman was singing softly to herself, the words of the song in strangely accented Germanian.

"Ein Mannlein steht im Walde

ganz still und stumm

cs hat von latter Purpur

ein Mantlein urn.

"Sagt, wer mag das Mannlein sein,

das da steht im Wald allein

mit dem purpurroten Mantelein?

Das Mannlein steht im Walde

"Auf einem Bcin

und hat auf seinem Kopfe

"Schwarz Kapplein klein.

Sagt, wer mag das Mannlein sein,

das da steht im Wald allein

mit dem kleinen schwarzen Kappelein?"

_What a strange little song,_ Kirche thought to herself. The woman sang it well though, in fact her voice was quite lovely in spite of her homely appearance. This was just further proof that Louise the Zero had hired an actor to play her familiar; no one with a voice that good could be anything but a stage performer.

"_That was a very lovely song," _Kirche said aloud in her native Germanian. "_And your voice is superb."_

The woman seemed startled out of whatever spell she was in. She turned her eyes towards Kirche, the blue orbs hazy for a moment before finally focusing back on her. The woman took a second to collect herself before smiling and greeting Kirche in Germanian. "_Good morning._"

"_Good Morning."_ Kirche returned the smile, part of her feeling good that she was able to speak in her native language once more. Although she was fluent in Tristanian, she had missed conversing in her native tongue. The woman's accent struck her as odd, though. She couldn't for the life of her place the dialect. "_You sing wonderfully. Have you been performing long?" _Kirche hoped to catch this actor off guard, thus ending the ridiculous charade that Valliere had hoisted upon them.

The woman blushed, looking away in what seemed like genuine embarrassment. "_I... I'm sorry. I didn't know I was so loud._"

Kirche laughed; my my, this girl was such a good actor. "_Oh, don't apologize. It was WONDERFUL. Your voice is superb. You must get much accolade and many admirers from your work on stage."_

The dark haired woman frowned. "_I am not a performer. I only like the operas and operettas." _She sounded strangely bitter about it.

It was Kirche's turn to frown. Could anyone be this good of an actor? She decided to push further for more information. "_So... what part of Germania are you from? Your accent is most... curious. I can't quite place it."_

"_Germania? I, ah..." _The woman looked nervous.

Aha! Kirche's lips turned upwards into a small grin. So she was hiding something. But what?

"_The east. I come from the far east of Germania."_ The woman coughed.

Okay, that was obviously a lie, and a bad one at that. But, could this, too, be an act? Could this woman be lying about the fact that she was lying? Damn, it made her head hurt. Kirche's ponderings were interrupted when Louise suddenly burst out of her room, pink hair in a wild mess and uniform in disarray.

"STUPID FAMILIAR!" the young Valliere shouted as she caught sight of the dark haired woman with the musket. "Why didn't you wake your master? I should-" The young girl stopped her shouting when she noticed that her hated rival was nearby. "K-Kirche!"

"Good morning, Louise," Kirche greeted, this time in Tristainian. " My my, you are looking quite ruffled today. Was it the guilt that kept you awake all night?"

Louise had busied herself patting her hair back and straightening her uniform. "What in the Founder's name are you talking about, Kirche? What guilt?"

"Oh, you know," Kirche almost sang, smiling roguishly at the other girl. "The guilt of hiring an actor to pretend to be your commoner familiar so that you wouldn't get expelled from the Academy."

Lousie sputtered. "Wh-what?! How dare you say such a thing! You insufferable... Zerbst! I did not hire an actor! I summoned my familiar, you saw me do it!"

"No, Louise, what I saw was a lot of smoke. Then this woman appeared underneath said smoke." Kirche leaned forwards and pointed an accusing finger at the shorter girl. "I know how stage plays work, it would have been easy as pie for you to sneak in this performer. Just admit it, Zero. You aren't fooling anyone."

"I... I..." Louise continued to sputter in impotent rage and disbelief. How could anyone, even Zerbst, question her abilities now after she had actually succeeded in performing a real spell! It wasn't fair! She turned towards her familiar, who was currently remaining silent while staring out the window with a bored expression on her face. "Familiar! Why don't you say something!" She demanded.

The woman turned her eyes back to Louise and raised an eyebrow. She then shrugged nonchalantly and let out a grin. "Oh my. I guess ve have been found out, little master. Do I still get payed even though ze jig is up?"

"Damn it, don't even JOKE about such a thing!" Louise screamed. "Stupid familiar!"

Kirche merely sighed, straightening her posture and giving the Valliere girl an annoyed look. "Honestly, Louise. I'm disappointed in you." The Germanian then departed, her salamander following.

"Like I care what you think!" Louise yelled after her. "The nerve of that... that... UGH!" She then rounded on her familiar and glared. "And you! Why didn't you tell her the truth?"

Rip Van Winkle snorted. "Like zese people vould believe me when zey von't even believe you." Her eyes narrowed slightly at Louise, a frown forming on her thin lips. "And vhy would you even care what zese fools think, anyvay? Are ze opinions of others so important to you?"

The pink haired girl dropped her gaze, eyes falling to her feet as she clenched her fists hard. "You... you wouldn't understand!" She turned swiftly on a heel and began stomping down the hallway. "And no breakfast for you! Maybe then you'll learn not to disobey your master!"

Rip waited until the girl was out of earshot and the hallway was empty. She turned her attention back to the window and the bright, cheerful scenery outside. "Zhat's okay, Louise," she said, then smiled widely. Her teeth had turned razor sharp, the fangs stained slightly red. "I already ate."


	4. Chapter 4: Stupid Familiar

**VI. Stupid Familiar**

Louise Valliere sent a withering glare at the useless lump of flesh currently sleeping in the seat next to hers. Said lump of flesh was a tall woman with dark hair and even darker clothes, spectacles, and a rather large gun that she absolutely refused to part with no matter what. This sad example of a woman was currently her familiar, and Rip Van Winkle was most definitely a bizarre familiar at that.

For one thing, she was a human, and a commoner to boot! But she was perhaps the most _irritating_ commoner Louise had ever met, since the worm absolutely refused to follow orders! Not only was it an infuriating insult to her noble name, but it was making her look bad. Already there had been rumors circulating around the Academy that Rip was actually an actress hired by her to pose as a familiar. But since all her classmates saw how the woman absolutely refused to follow any of Louise's instructions, they began calling her a waste of a noble who couldn't even control her own hired servants!

It had been about three days since the Springtime Summoning Ritual, and not much had changed. Louise, somehow, had managed to talk the irritating woman into accompanying her to class, as all good familiars should. Sadly, all the fool did during class hours was sit and fall asleep in the desk next to hers! Not even the animal familiars were so rude! And she snored!

After one particularly loud snore during Alchemical Studies, Louise had had enough. She took her wand and roughly jabbed it into the black mass of hair and clothing that was Rip. The sleeping familiar grunted before her head rose up from the desk slowly, glasses lopsided and a half-dead look on her face. She glanced around in confusion before turning her glazed eyes towards Louise. "Ghh... huuuh?"

"You are acting like a complete idiot!" she hissed out in an angry whisper.

"Can't help it..." Rip yawned as her head began sinking back down onto the desk. "... tired."

"Well, why can't you sleep at night like normal people?!" Louise loudly whispered again. Every night since the ritual, her familiar had been going off wandering the school grounds. She never told Louise what she did during those hours, but knowing the woman's lunacy it couldn't have been anything good!

"Cuz I sleep during ze day... mmmm..." Her sleepy familiar grinned stupidly as she began hugging her musket tightly. "Schlauf gut..."

Louise's eye twitched as a large stress vein popped up on her forehead. She was about to blast her familiar with a spell when her destructive thoughts were interrupted by the teacher.

"Miss Valliere," the man's voice spoke up sternly. "Are we disturbing you?"

"Gah! I mean, um, no, sir." Louise straightened up in her chair and hid her wand behind her back.

"You can play with your familiar once class is over," the man grumbled. "Until then, keep quiet and pay attention? Is that clear?"

"Yes sir," Louise murmured. There were several snickers from the other students.

_Stupid familiar!_ She angrily hissed.

0

At lunch that day, Louise sat alone as usual in the Alviss dining room, stuffing her face with tarts and pie. She wouldn't usually pig out so much in public, but with the annoying day she'd had so far she believed the gluttony to be well deserved. Rip was nowhere to be seen, as the irritating woman had wandered off after class to Founder knows where.

"Honestly, that familiar is such a pain," Louise grumbled in between bites of cake. "I swear, why can't she just do what I say? She's a commoner, they're supposed to obey me! Grr... it's so frustrating!"

She had tried to punish her familiar numerous times before, but for whatever reason they never seemed to work. Whenever Louise told Rip that she would withhold meals if she didn't behave, the dark haired girl would only laugh and blithely say that she was still full. If Louise threatened Rip with a lashing from her riding crop, the crazy woman would just smile creepily and make kinky sapphic suggestions. How the hell were you supposed to discipline something like that?

A sudden racket from near the entrance to the kitchen broke into Louise's mental meanderings. She glanced over and saw that one of the maids, an older woman with blond hair, had dropped a platter of fruit onto the floor. She was clutching at her face an weeping openly; two other maids came over and helped her out of the room.

"What's wrong with the servants these last few days?" Louise heard one first year girl from an adjacent table ask another. "They've all been acting weird."

"Didn't you hear?" her friend whispered, but loud enough for Louise to listen in. "Two days ago, they found one of the maids dead, out in the woods."

"Oh no!" Gasped the young student in shock.

"Yes. Not only was she dead, but her entire body was ripped to pieces. It looked like she was attacked by a wild animal!"

"That's horrible!" The first girl whimpered, tears coming to her eyes. "That poor maid."

"That's not all!" Spoke up a first year boy from their table. He had a leering grin as he began waving his hands at them like a story teller about recite a ghost story. "One of the men who found her, he works at the stables. I heard him talking with his friends, all bout what he had found." The boy's grin grew wider as he glanced at the girls, both of whom looked totally scared. "The man said that when he had found the body, even though it was torn to pieces... there was no blood _anywhere!_"

"N-n-no blood?" The first girl gasped.

"Yes," the boy continued. "It was like her body was completely drained of blood before being torn apraaaart!"

The first girl screamed, causing numerous first years around her to laugh.

"Stop it, Valjean!" Said her friend, who had put her arms around the now crying student. "You're such a creep, I swear!"

The boy just laughed along with his friends.

Louise chose that moment to depart, leaving her plate of sweets half eaten. She had just seriously lost her appetite.

0

Jean Colbert rubbed his weary eyes with the palms of his hands, letting out a deep, weary breath as his aching body screamed at him to get some sleep. He had been up for the past two days and exhaustion was all but dragging him down. It could not be helped though, as murder investigations were never supposed to be easy.

"Poor Siesta," he muttered with a shake of his head. It angered him that the world could be so cruel as to allow something so horrifying to happen to someone so kind and gentle.

Siesta of Tarbes. She was a popular maid, well known to both the faculty and staff. Even many of the students liked her. She had been a beautiful and kind young woman with many friends and no enemies whatsoever. Every one of the Academy's staff had been dumbstruck at news of her death; the head chef Marteau had been especially affected, as Siesta had been like a daughter to him. The poor man had taken ill upon hearing the news and asked to take several days off in order to recuperate.

Unfortunately, the chef wasn't the only one so affected. Colbert himself had personally gone to Tarbes to inform the maid's family; he felt that a letter would be just too informal and cold, especially with how much Siesta was so well liked at the school. The experience was... unpleasant to say the least. Siesta not only came from a large family (she had eight brothers and sisters) but it was a close-knit one as well. Her parents were utterly devastated by the news, the mother openly weeping whilst the father all but collapsed inside. The man kept his outward appearance strong though, all for the sake of his wife and children; if he broke down now, then their grief would be that much worse. No, the man remained strong, an ability that touched Colbert deeply. He didn't know if he himself, in the father's place, could show such strength.

The professor vowed upon leaving Tarbes that he would catch Siesta's murderer, and he was very much certain that this _was _a murder. After all, he had seen deaths like this before.

Siesta's body had been completely drained of blood before being dismembered, its heart torn out and the brain crushed. Her body was then dumped out in the forest, where it was later found by three groundskeepers who were out hunting for game. The lack of blood at the scene meant that Siesta was killed somewhere else. This showed the killer had intelligence. His examination of the post-mortem wounds indicated that they were not caused by tools or spells, but by sheer physical force; in other words, Siesta's limbs were torn right off her dead body. The brutality and strength of this evidence showed the killer had animal ferocity.

And the callous way the murderer had just tossed away Siesta's remains into the woods, like she was leftover slop from a feast, shows that the killer is completely devoid of a human conscience.

Intelligence. Strength. Evil. The lack of blood. All the evidence pointed to only one type of creature that could be responsible for such a heinous act. And that creature was a vampire.

Colbert had fought such monsters before. These vile beings were former humans with an unquenchable thirst for blood. The ones he fought were insanely powerful, capable of not only great strength and speed but the ability to cast the elves' Firstborn Magic as well. He had almost lost his life when, as a young man, he had encountered one of these undead ilk during his travels.

But perhaps the most devilish power in the vampires' arsenal, the one that made them so difficult to track down, is their ability to blend in completely with the human population. Unlike other monsters like orcs and minotaurs, vampires used to be humans. Thus they retained their form and only show their true colors when feeding. Vampires are indistinguishable from true, living humans; not even scrying spells could tell the difference.

Thankfully, there was a way of flushing a vampire out. Despite the fact that spells could not differentiate them from regular humans, vampires were still, at their very core, magical creatures. Thus Detect Magic could still work on them. Any vampire posing as commoner in a peasant village could be easily found by casting Detect Magic.

The difficulty came when vampires chose to hide in large cities, or in this case, an academy of magic. They could pose as nobility and feed to their hearts content. The only way to find them is to wait for the right moment, the right moment usually being when the vampire eventually made a mistake and was discovered.

Unfortunately, Colbert didn't have the time for that. At the moment, the official cause of Siesta's death was attack by wild animal. Old Osmond, the Headmaster, was quite keen on keeping the existence of a vampire secret. If word got out then it could cause panic with the noble families. The Academy might even be forced to shut down, and thus allow the vampire to escape into the night undetected.

And if the vampire attacked a student...

"Damn it," Colbert cursed and leaned back in his chair. The movement caused his desk to shake and two books fell off, each landing on the floor. The professor cursed and reached down to pick the scattered tomes up when his eyes fell on a sketch that had been lying underneath them. It was one he had made three days ago but had all but forgotten about. The sketch was of a set of runes, runes that were intricate and completely unknown to him. They were the runes of Louise Valliere's strange human familiar, the ones that had etched themselves on the familiar's left hand.

_Rip Van Winkle_. That was her name. Such a strange young woman. Dressed in strange garbs, wielding a strange firearm, and prone to the strangest fits of behavior. Simply put, she was strange all-around.

Colbert chuckled. Louise's familiar had actually been one of his first suspects. After all, Siesta's death had occurred on the same night as the Summoning Ritual. But after casting Detect Magic on Miss Van Winkle (from a discrete distance away) Colbert ascertained that the woman was not magical _at all._

Besides, there was the fact that she had been summoned during the day, and had been exposed to the sun's rays without any ill effects. One of the vampires' most notorious weaknesses was direct sunlight; it was lethal to the vile creatures. So it was with Colbert's professional opinion that Louise's bizarre familiar was not a vampire. She was just a strange, eccentric commoner from Germania, that was all.

Sadly, the professor never even considered the possibility that Rip Van Winkle was an artificially created vampire from another universe. But we can't really blame him for that, can we?

0

Although it took quite a long while, Louise managed to find her familiar. Rip never bothered to show up for her afternoon classes, and even though she didn't want to admit it, part of her was deathly afraid that the woman had run off and left. If that had happened, Louise didn't know what she would have done. Despite the fact that her familiar was an annoying, disobedient Germanian, Rip Van Winkle was still _her_ familiar. Thus, she was her responsibility. The talk earlier during lunch had scared her, and she was afraid for her. After all, Rip was just a commoner and couldn't really defend herself. Sure, she had a musket, but those things were completely useless when compared to magic. The fact that Rip would wander around at night by herself made Louise worry even more.

She eventually found the familiar near the front gates of the Academy. She was seated atop a low wall and gazing out into the forest. Louise marched up towards the woman intent on giving her hell, but then stopped. She calmed herself down and decided to try another tactic. After all, yelling at Rip and threatening her didn't seem to work. Maybe... maybe talking to her would.

_Ugh_.

Louise continued towards her familiar and stopped about a five feet away. She was about to call out when she noticed that the woman had a pink parasol in her hands. It was open, its length laying lazily against one shoulder while the canopy covered her head in the shade. Her ever-present musket lay comfortably on her lap.

"Familliar," Louise stated.

The woman raised an eyebrow upon hearing her voice. She then turned her head slightly to look down at her summoner. "Hmm?"

"Where did you get that?" the pink haired girl pointed up at the parasol.

Rip grinned. "Found it."

Louise's eye twitched. _Found it my foot! She stole it!_ Louise was quite sure that she had seen one of the first year girls a few weeks back carrying the exact same parasol during an especially sunny day. The noble was about to jump up and strangle her familiar, but quickly restrained herself. _Stop it, Louise! Talk to her about it LATER. Right now we need to be civil. Just civil. Be civil..._

She took a long, deep breath, swallowing her pride, then began speaking. "Rip Van Winkle."

The woman blinked, her eyes widening in surprise. This was the first time her summoner had ever deigned to use her name. "Yes?"

"Tomorrow is the Day of the Void," Louise continued.

Rip shrugged, turning her eyes back to the trees beyond. "So?"

"That is a day free from classes, and is set aside so that we students my bond with our familiars."

Said familiar merely snorted. "Bond?"

"Yes," Louise nodded. "So we can get to know each other."

"Oh, truly?" Rip asked, a sneer coming to her face. "You vish to get to know me?" Her voice, normally airy and cheerful despite its annoying tone, was now stiff with building anger.

"W-well, of course," Louise muttered. She wasn't really sure what her familiar was getting so upset about.

"So let me get zis straight," The dark haired woman turned her gaze away from the forest and brought her furious blue eyes down upon the girl who had summoned her. "You vish to get to know me _now. _Three days after you have enslaved me?"

"I... I..." Louise flinched. Her familiar's voice began to quake with definite anger.

"After you have bound my soul to you? After you have turned me into your dog, put a leash on me, made me your drudge? Your chattel?!" Rip was screaming now, her blue eyes glowing with fury.

"N-no! It, it wasn't like that!" Louise shot back.

"You make me sick," The woman's voice softened, but the fury within her was still very much evident. "Ever since I had gotten here, all you've done is treat me like an animal. You expect me to do everything you say, like a commander vith his troops. Yet vhat have you done to earn such a thing, hmm? Vhat have you done that I should respect you?" She pulled her furious eyes away and directed them back to the woods and trees. "You vould make an appalling commander. You don't even think vhat zis is like for me. You sink just because I am the one who was summoned, that I had no life before now. That I didn't have things I needed to do, people who needed me, friends and comrades who care about me..."

It was at that moment that Louise felt utterly horrible. Despite how she wanted to deny it, what the woman had said was true, she had never even bothered to think of her familiar... this person, in front of her. All that had mattered to her was that she had finally cast a spell right and that she had proven herself as a mage. She had her familiar, the symbol of her victory. To her, Rip was just a thing, barely a person at all. She was _her_ familiar, no better than a pet or a possession. She had never thought about how the woman in front of her had felt. She didn't even consider that her familiar actually had a life before now, and now that she did Louise couldn't help but feel sick. She was no better than one of those savage barbarian slavers she'd read about in books as a child. She was no mage, she was a monster!

"I'm sorry!" Louise whirled around, unable to face her familiar due to the shame she now felt. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She closed her eyes to stem the flood of tears that she felt were coming, but it did no good. They poured from between her shut eyelids, streaming down her face. "I didn't mean to do this... I... I..." Her shoulders began shaking as sobs wracked her body. "I just wanted a familiar, that's all! I didn't mean to kidnap a person, I swear! I just wanted to show everyone that I'm not useless, that's it! I just wanted them to see me, not the Zero! Not the failed Valliere! Just me! I wanted to matter! I wanted..." Her hands shot up to her eyes and began rubbing at them, trying to force the tears from coming. But they wouldn't. Her mother would be so ashamed.

Suddenly she felt two arms wrap around her and she gasped in surprise. From the black sleeves and white gloves, she realized it was her familiar. Funny, she never even heard the woman jump from the wall she had been sitting on. The arms tugged her tightly into a warm embrace, and soon she heard her familiar's voice, the tone strangely soft and comforting, waft against her ear.

"It's alright, Louise," Rip whispered in her ear. A small smile twisted the teenage girl's lips; it was the first time her familiar had ever used her name. "I am sorry, too. I should not have called you zose things. I vas angry, and sometimes in anger I do things I should not. In truth, I am very grateful for vhat you have done. For bringing me here, to zis beautiful place. Believe it or not, you saved my life. If it veren't for you, I vould be dead. For zhat, I will forever be in your debt.

"But," Rip added after a moment's pause, and Louise wondered if the ominous delay meant anything. "But, I can not be your familiar, not forever. I still have sings to do at home, important things that require me to be there. But I swear to you, until I find a vay back, I _vill_ be your loyal familiar. The vone that you deserve."

Louise choked down another sob. Only her big sister Cattleya had ever promised her something like that. "A-and," she coughed, but plowed on through, intent on giving her own oath. "And I swear, as your master, that I will do everything in my power to find a way to send you back home. I swear on th good name of House Valliere." Truth was, she didn't really understand what the big deal was. Could Rip not afford a carriage ride back to Germania? Despite her confusion, Louise was determined to keep her promise, no matter what.

She heard her familiar chuckle, a genuine laugh this time, not one of the manic sounding cackles the woman was known for. Rip then stood up, arms leaving Louise. But before her grasp slackened, the teenager felt a motherly kiss placed atop her head. "You are such a sweet child, you know zhat?"

Louise wiped at her eyes, then shook her head in mock anger. "I'm not a child!"

"Oh, ov course! Ov course! You are a big girl."

Louise continued to use the sleeve of her blouse to wipe away at her tear-stained face. Once she was satisfied that her cheeks were dry and she was presentable, she turned around and gave her familiar a smile. She realized that she should have done this in the first place, instead of acting like a haughty bitch. Whether her familiar was a human, commoner, or mere beast, she deserved to be treated with respect. She was, after all, _her _familiar.

"Hello," the pink haired girl stated, then gave a low, respectful bow. "My name is Louise Francoise le Blanc de La Valliere. So nice to meet you."

Rip gave the girl a lopsided grin. With a shrug, she thought "What the hell?" and decided to introduce herself in the same manner. She stood ramrod straight, clicked her heels stiffly, then shot her right arm up. "Heil, Louise! I am First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle, Millenium Organization. Sehr erfreut."


	5. Chapter 5: The Duel

**V. The Duel**

_The grass was dry yet soft on this spring afternoon. The air was warming, and soon the last of the biting winter cold would be gone. The springtime air blew softly through the leaves of the trees overhead, rustling branches and disturbing the birds whose songs also heralded the end of cold times._

_The rabbit rustled through the dry grass, its nose twitching as it sniffed about. From the scent in the air, he could smell that a female rabbit in heat was near. So the rabbit searched, seeking his potential mate. It was spring after all, and spring was the season for love._

_The rabbit was so intent on finding his female that he did not notice the predators nearby. He sniffed about in the underbrush, feeling safe because he was hidden, but then his body tensed when it heard a sudden loud and terrible sound. It was like thunder, only more raw and dreadful. Like a bear's snarl, but deeper in tone and louder. Sadly for the rabbit, it would not find out what the source of the terrible sound was; for it was at that moment that a small bullet pierced through his skull. It hit with such force that his tiny body was tossed out of the underbrush, landing against the side of a nearby tree._

_"You hit it!" The young girl laughed in amazement, her blond hair bobbing about as she turned her bright brown eyes towards the girl standing next to her. "That was amazing, **#######**! I couldn't even see that rabbit, it was under all those leaves!"_

_Unlike the first child, this girl was younger, perhaps seven or eight years old. She was also thinner and shorter, with long dark hair that was tied into a tight braid. Her shining blue eyes were all but hidden behind a thick pair of glasses. In her hands was a small .22 caliber hunting rifle, though it looked truly gigantic when held by her tiny form. _

_"Of course she hit it, Greta," said a man behind the girls, his mustached face smiling. He shared the younger girl's dark features, his hair black and eyes the same shade of blue. "My **####### **can hit anything with a rifle." The man patted his daughter on the head, and the girl flushed red at the praise._

_"She is truly amazing, Anton," said another man who was standing nearby. This one shared features with the blond girl. "I have never seen anyone, let alone a child, be so accurate with a fire arm. She's like a prodigy. A Mozart, only instead of pianos her instruments are bullets!"_

_Anton laughed._

_"How did you do it, **#######**?" Greta asked. "How do you always hit your targets? I've never seen you miss."_

_"I don't know," the girl shrugged. "I just do."_

_"Well, you keep it up, and you might even shoot in the Olympics." Her father grinned down at her. "Would you like that?"_

_The little girl frowned and shook her head, her braid whipping about her shoulders. "No, papa! I want to sing in the opera, like mama!"_

_"Oh? Well, why don't you do both?" Anton smiled. "You can be like the Valkyries of old, singing an aria whilst you fire your weapon at your enemies." The man took up a pose, a make-believe rifle in his arms, and began belting out off-key songs that he had heard from his wife's records. _

_"Stop it, papa!" The dark haired girl said and gave her father an annoyed glare. "Only crazy people would do that!"_

_The other three laughed uproariously at the small child's scandalized look. _

0

The Vampire's eyes flickered open, the shiny blue orbs glowing eerily in the darkness. She rubbed at them with bare fingertips, gasping in surprise when she found them wet.

Rip Van Winkle sat up from her makeshift cot and looked down upon the moist digits. She frowned, then wiped the sleeve of her jacket across her wet cheeks. Damn dreams.

The dark haired vampire was currently in one of the Academy's unused rooms deep in the bowels of the castle. From the dust in the halls and the lack of lights (either torchlight or magical) it was obvious that this part of the structure hadn't been used in decades. It suited her well enough, despite the lack of accommodation. There were no windows to let in the sun, nor were there any students or other humans to disturb her while she rested. Louise had offered the night before to have another bed brought up to her dorm room so that she could sleep there, but Rip politely declined. The girl's room was much too... bright for her tastes.

_Louise_. Rip smiled upon thinking of the pink-haired girl. Her little master. The talk that the two of them had had the previous afternoon did much to ease the tension which had built up around both. Perhaps now that they understood each other a little bit better, the two of them could work out this partnership and soon find a way of sending her back to her own world. Despite earlier misgivings, Rip couldn't help but feel some warmth towards the young girl. Part of it was the fact that Louise had saved her from the Adler, but another was the fact that she reminded her so much of

_A flash of blonde hair stained red._

_A pistol in her hand as she looked down at a still, unmoving form._

_Her father's voice, desperate in her ear, as he said "I'm so sorry."_

Rip cried out as she clutched at her head. "Scheisse!"

The vampire quickly dug through her pockets, desperately pulling out the contents. She tossed a small leather bag down onto the stone floor, the twine holding it closed coming loose and spilling several round musket balls across the darkness. A packet containing her powder and patches followed. As did a small plush toy of a cat. A battered old moleskin notebook. A blood-stained handkerchief. Her wallet.

Finally, Rip managed to find what she was looking for. It was a small silver pillbox containing the medicine that Dok had given her. She popped it open and cursed, as inside there were only four small white pills left. She was never supposed to have been separated from the rest of Millennium for so long; the mission only called for her to be away for two to three days at most. After securing the Eagle, she was to bring her men and ghouls up through the channel at the appointed time in order to support the bulk of Millennium forces which were to attack London from the air. She and her group were to be the second arm of a great pincer maneuver, one that would box in the city's defenders. Of course, Hellsing's demon ruined all that, slaughtering her forces and almost killing her. And now she was stuck here in this primitive, miserable hovel with no way to get any more of the Doktor's medicine. Without them, the dreams would come. As would the faces.

"Four pills left," she muttered before clicking the box shut. Four pills. She had to ration them. At the moment, the dreams weren't too bad. They would get worse though, much worse. Thankfully from past experiences she knew that blood could stave off the nightmares somewhat. As long as she drank, the dreams would not come, at least not with such lucidity.

Her hand pressed against her belly. She'd have to feed tonight. Although the meal she had taken from that maid a few days earlier was still flowing within her, it wouldn't hurt her to have another snack so soon. Unfortunately, she'd have to hunt away from the school since the maid's death had brought on too much attention. With the way these nobles treated their commoners, Rip had thought that the death of one measly servant wouldn't have stirred too much of a fuss. Sadly, it seems that she had completely underestimated these people's ability to show common decency.

"Feh," she grumbled. Thankfully she had sensed numerous other settlements nearby. It wouldn't be too much of a hassle to make a quick run over to one of them and have a quick bite.

That thought brightened her mood, and she grinned evilly, her mouth lined with razor-sharp teeth.

0

Although she had no timepiece to know what the exact hour was, Rip used her senses and found that the majority of the people in the castle were up and about. From the movement of the servants as well as the location of the students, she surmised that it was about mid-morning to mid-day. Good. That meant she was only a _little_ bit late.

Last night she had promised Louise that she would be up bright and early so that the two of them might talk and converse during the Day of the Void. The girl was most adamant that she be there, after all the other familiars would be showing up with their masters.

Oops. Well, it really wasn't Rip's fault. She had no way to tell the time, after all. Plus she was a creature of the night; she couldn't be expected to get up at such an ungodly early hour. She was making her way through the halls towards the Academy grounds, idly wondering if this world had invented alarm clocks yet, when she sensed an approaching human. She swiftly spotted the figure of Professor Colbert walking towards her, and saw that the man looked a little worse for wear. He had thick bags under his eyes, and his hair, or what little there was left, stuck up in untidy tufts.

"Guten morgan, professor!" Rip greeted him with a cheerful smile.

"Hmm? Oh, Miss van Winkle," Colbert stated, looking very much distracted. "Didn't see you there. How are you today?"

"Oh, very well, professor. Und may I ask how you are? You are not looking so vell, I'm afraid."

The man rubbed at the back of his head in embarrassment. "Ahah, well, you see, I've been working on something that's taking up much of my time. I was actually on my way to my room to get some rest." He looked around, a look of confusion suddenly coming to his face. "Oh dear, this isn't the way to my room. Good grief, where am I?"

Rip laughed, unable to believe such an absent-minded man had been trusted to teach the next generation of nobility. "Ve are in the sub-basement, professor. A level above ze dungeons."

"Dungeons?" Colbert narrowed his eyes at her. "What were you doing in the dungeons?"

"Oh, nothing much," Rip lied and waved her hands, trying her best to look innocent. "I vas just exploring. Zis is such a pretty castle, after all. I guess I got curious and vanted to see vhat was down there."

"I see," the professor rubbed at his eyes, looking very much the tired academic. "Well, just be careful. There are many dangers to be found in a castle so old, especially in areas where no one has been in for a while."

"I vill. Thank you so much for your concern, professor." Rip clicked her heels and bowed before going on her way.

Colbert nodded, waving to the young woman as she passed. If he had been more rested and alert, he would have noticed that the doorway into the deeper dungeons was absolutely pitch black, and Rip had no torch.

0

Louise was trying her best not to be angry. She really was. She tried to maintain her decorum as a noble, to keep a cool and polished demeanor as befitting one of the Valliere household.

She had thought that she and Rip had come to some sort of understanding yesterday. She thought that, after their talk, the two of them would be the best of friends; to have a relationship that would have been the envy of all other masters and familiars. But it seemed as if nothing had changed, and her familiar still didn't respect her. After all, she'd been sitting here waiting for ages for a familiar that never showed up.

All around her, the other second year students had gathered with their familiars. They talked with them, laughed, and bonded under the clear, warm morning sun. Louise scowled, and crossed her arms in frustration. Oh, why couldn't she have just gotten a dog or a cat? Even a goldfish would have been preferable! An animal wouldn't talk back, disobey, or NOT show up for an important event. The pink haired girl felt tears begin to spring up in her eyes, but she viciously clamped down on her emotions, absolutely refusing to shed any more tears because of her stupid familiar.

"Hey, Zero!" Malicorne called from a nearby table. The chubby boy grinned in cruel amusement as he patted his owl's soft feathers. "I haven't seen your so-called familiar all day. What's the matter, did that actor you hire finally call it quits?"

"Shut up, Common Cold!" snarled Louise. She was definitely not in the mood for this nonsense.

The rotund boy sputtered in outrage. "Windward! My runic name is The Windward!"

"Calm down, Malicorne," Montmorency interrupted. The svelte blond was seated at another table with Guiche and two other students. "Zero is just upset that her little con is up. Honestly, Louise, did you really think to fool all of us with such a ridiculous ploy?"

The pink haired girl shot up from her chair and shouted. "It was not a ploy! I summoned a familiar, and you all saw it! Rip isn't an actor, she is _my_ familiar! Mine! It proves that I'm a mage, and anyone who says otherwise is a fool!"

Several of the students snorted, many chuckling in derision.

"If you say so, Zero," Montmorency continued. "Even if it _were_ a true summons, don't you realize that that fact just makes it even worse? Remember: the familiar is a direct reflection of the mage who summoned it. I mean, come on. Summoning a _commoner_ of all things. Talk about the ultimate joke! Doesn't that just prove that you are a nothing? Summoning something so utterly banal and non-magical?"

Louise flinched as her classmates laughed. She hated to admit it, but Montmorency had a point. She had even thought so when she had first summoned Rip. What kind of pathetic mage was she that she could only summon an ordinary, uninteresting human being?

"Oh, is zat right?" A voice suddenly called out. Everyone turned to the source and saw that it was Louise's familiar, the crazy woman in black, the one who carried the giant musket everywhere she went. Strangely enough, this morning she was also carrying an open parasol in her other hand, the bright pink color of the item clashing with her dark hair and clothing.

"R-Rip!" Louise called out. She was so glad to see her familiar that she even forgot that, at the moment, she was supposed to be really mad at her.

The tall dark haired woman lazily strolled across the garden towards Montmorency's table. Her tall form loomed over the students there, her glasses glinting evilly in the shade provided by the parasol. It made the sniper look very intimidating indeed.

"So... you were saying before that ze familiar is a direct reflection of its master." Rip's blue eyes narrowed at the blond girl, her lips twisted into a sneer. "Is zat right?"

Montmorency gulped. "Th-that's right." She quickly collected herself and returned the woman's gaze. "The type of familiar summoned is a direct indication of what type of mage the summoner is!"

"Reeeeaaally?" The dark haired woman grinned, then bent down to poke at Montmorency's frog, which was sitting peacefully atop the table. "And vhat does summoning zis disgusting little toad say about you? Hmmm?"

There were numerous gasps from the other noble students. Many of them were shocked that a commoner would speak in such a manner to their betters, though some were snickering quietly at the jibe.

"W-what did you say?" Montmorency asked, aghast at what she had just heard. "Robin is NOT a toad! She is a beautiful frog!"

Rip snorted. "Oh please, stop wis the semantics. You said before that ze familiar is a direct reflection of its master." She grinned. "So what does your toad, oh... sorry, frog, say about you? Hmm?" She leaned down and stared directly into the blond girl's cringing face. "Zat you eat flies? Or maybe that you like to bathe in scummy vater? Or perhaps maybe you have varts all over your skin? Or maybe, just maybe, that you are just a fat, pitiful little toad zhat no one takes seriously?"

Montmorency sputtered in shock whilst some of the other students nearby became indignant. Many of them laughed aloud, though, loving the verbal beating the normally haughty girl was receiving. Louise herself was not sure about how to act; although she loved seeing the arrogant blond put in her place, Rip's words were becoming just a bit too cruel.

"You leave her alone this instant!" Guiche had finally gotten over his shock at the vile commoner's words and quickly jumped in to defend what he saw was his woman's honor. "You insufferable common harridan!" The blond boy stood up and pointed an accusing finger at the familiar. "How dare you speak to a gentle and beautiful lady in such a manner! I demand that you apologize this instant!"

Rip sighed and directed a dull, bored gaze towards Guiche. "Oh dear, if it isn't Mr. Vanna-be Lothario. Vhat's the matter, Cassanova? Did you get tired of za little brown-haired girl from ze other night and decide to try your luck with the blond here?"

Guiche flinched, turning pale upon hearing her words.

"Guiche, what is she talking about?" Montmorency asked, directing a narrow-eyed glare at the boy. Her earlier mortification seemed completely forgotten in lieu of this new information.

"I... I have no idea what this insane woman is talking about, dear, sweet Montmorency," Guiche stuttered, sweat beginning to form on his forehead.

There was a burst of loud laughter from Rip, and she clutched her sides in mirth. "Ha ha ha! Mein Gott! Are you serious? You already worked your vay into her pants? My my, either I was wrong and you really are a true ladies' man, or zese noble vomen are incredibly gullible."

"Now see here!" The blond boy protested.

"Guiche!" Montmorency stood up and directed a fierce glare at her boyfriend. "You didn't answer my question."

"Montmorency! I swear, I have no idea what this mad woman is talking about! It's obvious she is lying!" He directed his most charming smile at the girl in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "I swear, you are the only woman for me. For you are a glorious flower among a sea of torpulent weeds!"

"S-Sir Guiche?" A soft voice suddenly asked in a hurt tone.

Guiche turned paler upon hearing it. He hadn't noticed that a large crowd of students had gathered to watch the verbal sparring match that was taking place at his table. Among them were some first year students, which unfortunately for him included a certain brown-haired girl.

"K-Katie?" He gasped, turning around only to look into a teary set of brown eyes.

"S-Sir Guiche, is it true?" Katie asked, a stream of tears streaking her face. "Are you really with Miss Montmorency?"

"N-No, Katie! It's not what it looks li-" Guiche didn't get very far, as Montmorency suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled his attention towards her.

"So it IS true!" The blond girl shouted. "You two timing bastard!"

"Mon-" His entreaties were stopped swiftly when Montmorency's palm struck his cheek.

The blond girl then turned around in a huff and stormed away. Her frog hopped off the table and followed.

"Montmorency! Wait!" Guiche called out, a hand rubbing at his reddened cheek. A sniffle brought his attention back around.

"Sir Guiche... how could you?" Katie wept and sped off.

"Katie!" Guiche called out. Several of the students laughed, finding the drama absolutely hilarious.

"Vell, I hope you are proud of yourself, Romeo."

Guiche whirled his furious eyes back to see Valliere's familiar, no, the _she-devil,_ grinning at him. "You!" He snarled. "This is all your fault!"

Rip raised an eyebrow and pointed to herself. "Me?"

"Yes, you! You insane, miserable commoner!"

Guiche only grew more furious when, in the face of his fury, the woman merely laughed. "Oh, please. Don't blame me for zis mess, this was all you."

"Silence!" The blond boy visibly calmed himself, taking a deep breath before speaking. "It is because of your uncouth manners and disgusting behavior that two lovely noble ladies are upset." He then pulled out his rose wand and pointed its tip at the dark haired woman. "Thus, it is my duty as a noble to teach you some manners! I challenge you, commoner, to a duel!"

The crowd around them were in shock. "Guiche, don't beat up on women!" shouted a third-year boy with a disgusted look on his face.

"No! This..." His eyes flicked up and down Rip's form before snorting. "_harpy _is no woman. She is a contemptuous common gutter trash with no business being here at an Academy for the nobility. Her looks are as mannish as her manners, lacking the feminine grace and charm that befit all who would deem themselves women." Guiche grinned upon seeing that his words had managed to make the familiar quake with anger. "So, what is it, oh gorgon that is the familiar of Zero? Do you accept my challenge?"

Rip gritted her teeth, blue eyes shining with hate. "Oh, you annoying little vorm. Fine, boy. If you vant to get your arse kicked so badly, then I'll be happy to oblige. I accept."

There were gasps of surprise along with hoots of joy from the students. Louise herself jumped up and cried, "What?! No, you can't!" She stepped up to her familiar and grabbed her arm. "Rip! Stop, you can't fight him! He'll kill you!"

The dark haired woman merely snorted. "He can try."

"Damn it, familiar!" Louise crossed her arms, trying to look stern. "I _order_ you not to fight!"

Rip directed a glare towards her that was so fierce it made Louise shiver. The pink haired girl remembered that false sternness would never work with her familiar, and quickly changed tactics. "Please!" She begged, worry and concern evident in her voice.

The tall woman's face softened a bit and she smiled. "Don't vorry, Master. I promise not to die."

"Are you two done?" Guiche angrily asked. "If so, meet me in the Vestry Court so that I may teach you the error of your ways!" With that, the blond boy stomped off, eagerly followed by most of the students.

"Pompous prick," Rip sneered. She then looked down at Louise and almost flinched upon seeing how completely scared the girl was. _Huh, she's actually worried for me. _Rip didn't know how to feel about that. "Come, Louise. It's time I showed you how an officer of Millennium does battle."

0

Word of the upcoming duel spread all throughout the student body. A large crowd composed of all years had gathered around the vestry's courtyard, each eager to see Guiche and Louise the Zero's crazy familiar duke it out. There were even several commoner servants at the fringes of the crowd, each curious after hearing news of a commoner about to fight one of the noble students.

Guiche stood at the center of the church's yard, eagerly awaiting his opponent and quietly fuming. He had never felt so humiliated in his life, and all because some foolish commoner trash couldn't keep her mouth shut. Well, he'd show her. After he was done beating some sense into that ugly witch, he would use this victory to get himself back into the good graces of both Katie and Montmorency. He'd tell them that he had fought for their honor, and upon seeing how brave he was the two lovely damsels would be sure to forgive him!

A cheer rung up from the crowd when Valliere's familiar stepped onto the field, Valliere herself following with a worried expression on her face. Ah, poor Louise, to be saddled with such a burden. She truly was quite lovely, in her own way. Perhaps when this was over, he could offer her his condolences and be there as a shoulder for the pink-haired girl to cry on. Hmmm...

"Ah, so you actually showed," Guiche directed a smile at his opponent as he fanned himself with his rose wand. "I compliment you on your bravery, to face one such as I."

The dark haired woman chuckled and gave him a mirthful grin. "And I pity you your stupidity for not seeing ze volf that is standing before you."

"Hey!" called out a female voice from the crowd. "That's my umbrella!"

Rip suddenly blushed, clutching at the parasol as she turned her face away from the girl. "NOITISNTIFOUNDIT."

"Enough," Guiche called out. "It's time for you to face justice!"

The familiar closed the parasol and stuffed its pointy end down into the soft dirt of the lawn. "Let us do zis then, you schwein."

"Very well," the blond boy flourished his wand around, very much enjoying himself as he played to the crowd. "I am Guiche de Gramont, also known as Guiche the Bronze. Your opponent this day shall be my Bronze Valkyrie!" A petal from the rose fell slowly to the earth. When it landed, a large armored form emerged from the earth. It was thin and feminine in appearance, looking very elegantly crafted. In its hand was a large lance.

Rip raised an eyebrow at the display. Okay, she had to admit it. She was impressed. It wasn't every day that you saw an entire suit of armor forming out of the ground. Magic truly was an exciting thing to watch. Despite her surprise, Rip smiled. This was going to be more interesting than she thought.

"Vell, since you were so kind as to introduce yourself, let me return your graciousness." The dark haired woman looked straight at Guiche and flashed him a wide smile. The blond boy lost a bit of his swagger upon seeing the look she gave him; was it just him, or did her teeth look remarkably sharp? No, it had to be a trick of the light.

"I am ze Huntress, Rip Van Winkle," the familiar said, her feral smile growing wider. She raised her musket up with her right hand, placing the long barrel lazily against her shoulder. "Tinker, tailor. Soldier, sailor..." She looked upon her assembled audience of mages and decided to add another line to her familiar chant. "Vizard or vastrel. My bullet punishes all vithout distinction."

"Humph. Foolishness!" With a flick of his wand, Guiche unleashed his golem. The metallic construct rushed forwards, its movements smooth and fast, much faster than its design should have allowed. It raced across the short distance to its target, then raised its weapon and brought it down.

Rip felt the runes on her left hand flare as she attempted to dodge. To her surprise she felt herself explode into action, moving faster than she ever had before. She easily dodged the golem's lightning fast strike, managing to find herself well beyond its reach. To her, it was as if the creature had suddenly slowed, its movements becoming sluggish and unwieldy. To everyone else watching, it was like she had vanished, disappearing just as the golem struck only to reappear several feet behind it.

Everyone watching had gasped when the Valkyrie's lance hit nothing but air, but perhaps the most surprised of all was Rip herself. She looked down at her left hand and saw the bright glow of her familiar runes shining through the fabric of her white glove. Her shocked face suddenly turned feral, and she began to laugh uproariously. Magic was awesome.

"Damn it!" Guiche shouted and twisted his wand, mentally ordering his golem to finish the annoying woman off. It was obvious the familiar was a mercenary of some skill, but such thing were irrelevant. She may have been fast, but her mundane talents were no match for his magic.

The Valkyrie twisted on its heel and charged Rip again. It began to jab at the familiar with its lance, thrusting swiftly and with as much strength as it could. Rip merely laughed in delight as she easily dodged all its blows; to her the golem moved so slowly that she didn't even need to break a sweat. These runes were amazing. At first she had thought that they had only increased her senses. Now she realized that _all_ her abilities had been increased. Strength, speed, reflexes; the runes augmented them all! It was amazing. She was probably as fast as Luke Valentine. Maybe even faster!

"This is... impossible!" Guiche began to sweat as he saw Louise's insane commoner dodged and weaved around every thrust, every strike his Valkyrie was giving. How could anyone be so fast?

The crowd gasped in awe when Rip suddenly went on the offensive. After dodging another of the golem's strikes, she quickly lashed out her left foot and slammed it against the Valkyrie's midsection. The impact was enough to crush the armor, the metal bending before tearing away to reveal the empty shell beneath. The golem was unable to support itself with half its torso gone, and it quickly collapsed onto the dirt.

The gathered spectators were speechless after that. Many of the students wondered how a commoner could have been capable of such a thing. Was she even a commoner at all? Then, clapping came, followed by more. The common servants in the audience cheered out loud. They had never seen such a sight; it was beyond their imaginations to see one of their own holding out against a noble. Pretty soon their cheers became infectious, and even some of the students began to cheer Rip on.

Guiche gaped in stupefied horror when he watched the dark haired woman all but gut his Bronze Valkyrie. How the hell had such a thin, delicate looking girl done such a thing? "Th-that's impossible!" He shouted. "Impossible!" He then waved his rose wand, scattering numerous petals about. Each hit the ground and formed another Bronze Valkyrie, until there were seven more of the constructs on the field. Guiche's new army readied their weapons, facing Rip Van Winkle as one.

"Impossible?" Valliere's familiar asked. The sun began to reflect off the lenses of her spectacles, and that, coupled with the feral grin, made her a very frightening vision indeed. "No, dear boy. Zis outcome was inevitable. Your defeat vas assured ze moment you opened your mouth to challenge me." With that, Rip leveled her musket towards Guiche and fired. There was an explosion of smoke and sound, the loud eruption causing many of those watching to flinch.

The blond fop shrieked in fright and dropped, fully expecting a musket ball to pierce his skull. After a few moments of feeling absolutely no bits of metal entering his poor body, Guiche opened his eyes and looked around. Nothing.

"She missed?" The blond boy asked, slightly stupefied and unable to believe his luck. "Y-you missed?" He grinned widely and began to laugh. "Ha! You missed!"

Rip's evil grin, however, did not waver. "Sink again."

Suddenly, Guiche heard a loud clank. He turned to one of his golems and saw that a large hole had somehow appeared in the armor of its back. Then, there was another clank. Then another. Guiche watched in horrified fascination as more holes began appearing in his seven Valkyries. The clanking began to increase, and within moments he realized that _something_ was peppering his golems with blows. Over and over the strikes came, slamming into his army and leaving large, gaping holes in them. The attack soon came to a crescendo when what looked to be blue streaks of light began to pierce his creations over and over and over, shredding their metal armor and rendering them useless.

Rip herself was ecstatic. It seemed as if the runes had also upgraded the manipulation of her bullets. She now had finer control over the projectiles, and was easily able to make them change direction at faster intervals along with steeper angles. Pretty soon she had Guiche's army of Valkyries looking more like swiss cheese, and they quickly toppled over into piles of scrap metal.

"N-no..." Guiche shook his head in sheer disbelief. It was impossible, yet it had happened. Valliere's familiar had defeated him. There was no way she was a simple commoner. Just... no way. He collapsed onto his knees and bowed his head in shame. "I... I yield."

The crowd was speechless for a moment, and in that moment you could have heard a pin drop. But as suddenly as the moment had come, it was gone, and the audience quickly burst into applause. Sure, a commoner had just beaten a noble. But it was a glorious fight, and fun to watch. The students may have been too young to realize the implications of what they had just seen, but the commoner servants among them knew that they had witnessed something truly remarkable.

A commoner had defeated a noble. The nobles were not invincible.

As for the victor, she merely gave the young fop a happy smile. Thankfully for Guiche, this one did not have the deranged and feral quality of her earlier one and she seemed genuinely pleased. "Well, that vas fun, Herr Gramont. Very... educational. Ve should do it again sometime!"

Guiche looked at her as if she was insane. "Seriously?"

"Definitely! Well, tata," Rip waved goodbye to the flabbergasted noble and made her way back to her parasol. It was still sticking up from the ground as she had left it, none the worse for wear. As she plucked it up, Rip spotted the first year girl that had earlier laid claim to it. "Hey, did you vant your parasol back?"

The girl turned pale and shook her head. "N-no no! You can keep it!"

Rip gave her a dazzling smile. "Oh, you are too kind. Danke!" She opened the item up and held it overhead as she began to walk out of the Vestry Court. Before she could reach the exit, a familiar pink-haired form stopped her.

"Familiar!" Louise called out, sounding none too happy.

"Yes, little master?" The dark haired woman asked, too content to let the young girl's tone dampen her mood.

Louise glared up at her familiar, her little face twisted up into a look that was a mixture of both frustration and sheer disbelief. "What. The. Hell. Was. THAT?"

Oh dear. It looked like an explanation was in order. Rip just had to decide whether or not such an explanation would include the truth or whether a shameless fabrication would suffice.

"What vas that, Louise?" Rip Van Winkle laughed, then patted her master on the head. "Zat was me proving to everyone in zis Academy just vat a capable mage you are."

The look on Louise's face was priceless.


	6. Chapter 6: The Left Hand of God

**VI. The Left Hand of God**

Rip Van Winkle had calmed down from the exhilaration of battle the duel with Guiche de Gramont had provided her. The experience had been quite enjoyable, as it gave her the chance to actually test out the new improvements to her abilities that Louise's familiar runes had given her. She had discovered not only enhanced senses, but an improvement in her overall vampiric powers as well.

Unfortunately, it seemed that going all out had not been such a great idea. This was evidenced in the fact that she, Louise, and her playmate for the afternoon, Guiche, had all been summoned to the Headmaster's office some minutes after the impromptu duel had taken place. Rip wondered if perhaps she should have held back even a little bit on her abilities; if the authorities discovered her secret, then she would most likely be killed. Being a vampire, regardless of whether it was by artificial means or not, meant that most humans regarded you as a monster, and with good reason. She had already killed once since she had arrived on this world, so their fear was not without reason. Still, Rip did not wish to die. With her newfound abilities she may be able to take on one or two of the more powerful mages in the school, but she didn't know the full capabilities of these wizards. If they attacked her in numbers, she knew there was no way she could escape.

As the three waited in the Headmaster's office, Louise was surprised to note that her familiar was unusually morose. True, she herself was a bit nervous since she had never been called to see the old mage before, but Rip looked downright terrified. The dark haired woman was pale (well, paler than usual) and she kept fidgeting in her chair. She looked so much different than she had in the vestry field when she was dueling Guiche; there she was brimming with so much confidence that it bordered on arrogance.

Frankly, Guiche himself didn't look too good either. His normally flamboyant nature was nowhere to be found; in fact, he looked downright depressed. His head hung low, his face covered by the strands of his blond hair, and there was a palpable air of sullenness to him. Louise really didn't know why the blond fop was so downcast; sure, he lost a fight, but it wasn't like he had died or was even injured. And everyone saw how powerful Rip was. Nobody was going to hold it against Guiche that he lost.

That was another thing that bothered her. Rip's abilities were incredibly impressive; she showed feats that no commoner could possibly be capable of. Did that mean that her familiar was actually a secret noble? With the way she moved, the strength she showed, and the fact that she took out seven golems with _one_ bullet... well, that could only mean that Rip was actually a wind mage. What else could she be? Certainly not the common mercenary she was pretending to be.

Louise's musings were interrupted when the door to the office slammed open. She noticed Rip looking even more nervous as the Headmaster strolled in, and Guiche's mood didn't change at all.

"Well, you three certainly caused quite the ruckus this morning, didn't you?" said the old mage as he walked up to the large oak desk at the back of his office. He took a seat behind it, and moaned in discomfort as his ancient body sank into the chair. As he was getting comfortable, Ms. Longueville, his green-haired secretary, came into the office and sat at a nearby desk.

"So?" Osmond spoke up after a moment of silence, one hand stroking his long beard. "What have you to say for yourselves?"

None of them said a word. Guiche was still morosely staring at his feet, Rip was nervously avoiding the old man's gaze, and, as for Louise herself, well... she had no idea _what_ to say. She really wasn't quite sure how the hell she'd gotten into this predicament in the first place.

"I was at fault," Guiche spoke up. "I take full responsibility."

Both Rip and Louise looked at the boy in shock.

Old Osmond raised an eyebrow as he turned his gaze towards the sulking blond. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Guiche continued, his voice sounding barren and so unlike his usual self. "I goaded Miss Valliere's familiar into a fight. It was I who instigated the incident, so it should be me who gets punished for it."

"Hmmm." Osmond looked over towards Louise and Rip. "Is this true?"

Louise opened her mouth to say she was partly at fault, too, when her familiar suddenly spoke up. "Ja! It vas him! It vas all him!"

Louise sputtered and Guiche seemed to sink even further into himself.

"I... see." The Headmaster turned his eyes back to the blond boy. "Very well, Guiche. I shall take your honesty into consideration while I decide on a proper punishment. You may leave."

The melancholy student nodded and slowly shuffled off. Once the door closed, Osmond turned his attention to Rip.

"Now then, Miss van Winkle was it?"he asked.

Rip flinched, then nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I must say, that was a very interesting show you put on," the old man told her.

The dark haired woman's face flushed and she looked away in embarrassment. "Y-you saw zhat?"

"I did." He then snorted. "I'm pretty sure the entire Academy did." Osmond then sighed and leaned back into his chair causing a loud, uncomfortable creak to echo around his large office. "You were most impressive, and those magic bullets of yours were definitely something I have not seen before."

Rip began to curse herself for her stupidity. Because of her carelessness, the most powerful wizard in the Academy had seen her abilities in action. If he suspects that she's anything but human, then she's doomed! She had to think of something and fast!

"Sorry, sir? Did you say _magic_ bullets?" she asked.

"Yes. You only fired one shot, yet you managed to hit Mr. Gramont's golems numerous times." Osmond fluffed his beard. "I would definitely call that magic."

Rip broke out into what she hoped sounded like an embarrassed laugh. "Oh, zhat is ridiculous! I have no magic bullets. In fact, I have no magic at all."

Louise frowned in confusion. "Then how...?"

She was interrupted when Osmond spoke as well. "Are you saying that you are not a Wind mage?" At the familiar's shake of the head, he continued. "Then how did you accomplish such feats, if not without magic?"

"Vell, the bullet thing is easy to explain," Rip stated. "I merely made my shots ricochet."

"Ricochet?" Osmond asked.

"Ja, ricochet." The dark haired woman grinned and gave a shrug. "I am a top marksman, ze best in Millennium. It is easy for me to fire off a musket ball and have it bounce off one solid object und hit another. Quite easy to make it happen several times. To ze untrained eye, it may seem that my bullet is flying about, villy-nilly, but I assure you it is all very down to earth und mundane."

"Hmn," the old man stroked his beard. "What about your speed and strength. You dodged that golem's blows without even trying. Are you about to tell me that _that_ is the work of a mere commoner as well?"

"Oh no," Rip replied. "Zat part is magic."

Louise sputtered. "W-what? But you said you weren't a mage!"

Her familiar smiled and turned towards her. "I may not be a mage, little master, but you are." She lifted her left hand and took off the glove to show both the Headmaster and Louise her runes. She then reached down to floor where her musket was laying and picked it up. To both Osmond and Louise's amazement, the runes began to glow. Ms. Longueville stopped whatever work she was doing at her desk to stare at the glowing runes as well.

"My word," the old man leaned across his desk to get a closer look at the intricate glowing patters. "Are you saying that your familiar runes were responsible for your impressive physical feats?"

Rip nodded. Inside, she smiled. _Gotcha._ The best lies were always the ones based on a modicum of truth. And the best part about this lie was that it was mostly true. She _had_ gotten increased strength, speed, and senses from the runes. She just left out the part about her strength, speed, and senses being super human to begin with.

"Yes, sir. Every time I hold my musket, ze runes glow. Zhen I feel stronger, faster, my marksmanship is twenty times better. I feel superb." Rip placed her weapon back at her feet, and the runes stopped glowing.

Osmond had gotten a pensive look on his face. He leaned back once more in his chair, beginning to stroke his beard once more. His wrinkled face became scrunched up in deep thought. Finally, after two minutes of terse silence, the old man opened one of his desk's drawers and removed a dagger. The Headmster then placed the weapon atop the desk and slid it towards Rip.

"I have a theory," the old man stated. "If you would be so kind, could you please pick up the knife?"

The dark haired woman looked confused. "Sir?"

"Humor me, please."

Rip shrugged, then reached over and picked up the dagger. As soon as it was in her grip, the runes on her left hand flared to life.

"Vhat?" the familiar gasped, almost dropping the dagger in surprise. She thought only her beloved jezail could trigger the runes. How could this knife have done the same? Rip looked back at the blade in her hands and instinctively knew that she could wield it like a master. She knew how to grip it, how to strike and stab with it, how to best wear it for quick, easy drawing, and even how to toss it at a target. She began to twirl the knife in her hand, her fingers easily maneuvering it about like she had done it all her life. "Zhis... this is amazing!"

"As I thought..." Osmond mumbled to himself.

"Sir Osmond, what does it mean?" Louise asked, very much confused as to what exactly was going on. How could a simple set of familiar runes give super powers to a commoner?

"Um... I'll get back to you on that." The old man nervously twiddled with his beard. "Anyway, you two have had quite a long day, and it isn't even over yet! You should get some rest. I'll call you if I figure anything out. Bye!" He made a shoo-ing motion with his hand.

"Uh... right." Louise sighed and stood up. She knew when she was being gotten rid of.

Rip placed the dagger carefully back onto the desk, then slipped her glove back on. "It vas very nice to meet you, Herr Osmond." She bowed. "I vish you a good day." The familiar quickly grabbed her things and followed the Valliere girl out the door.

Old Osmond sat at his desk, stroking his beard in deep thought. When he began muttering to himself, Ms. Longueville stood up, feeling slightly worried.

"Sir Osmond?" the green haired woman asked. "Are you alright?" Her eyes then narrowed as she peered at the old man through her glasses. "Do you know why that girl's familiar runes are acting so strangely?"

"Hmm?" Osmond looked up at his secretary, looking very much distracted. "Oh. Uh, yes. Well, no. Well...maybe. Hmm. Could you be a dear and go summon Professor Colbert for me? I may need his expertise on this."

"Yes, sir." Longueville quickly left, leaving the old man to his thoughts.

0

"What was that all about?" Louise asked once they were well away from Osmond's office.

Rip just shrugged. "I am in ze dark as vell."

The two remained quiet until they reached the pink haired girl's dorm room. Upon entering, she quickly shut the door and turned on her familiar. "Okay, Rip. I know you're lying about something, so spill it!"

The vampire flinched at the accusation. "L-Louise! How could you say such a thing, I am hurt!"

Her master merely rolled her eyes. "Come on! I saw what you did to Guiche's golems. There was no way that was just you ricocheting bullets!"

"You're right, it vasn't just that. Remember my runes?" She held her left hand up.

"That doesn't make any sense either!" Louise complained, crossing her arms. She began to pace, feeling very irritated with the explanations so far. "How could simple familiar runes give you such strange abilities? They're merely magic sigils that bind familiars to their master's service. There's no reason for them to be acting in such a manner."

Rip sat down at the windowsill and turned her attention to the view outside. "Don't ask me. You are the vone who put these damn sings on me. If you don't know zen how could I?"

"Aargh! This is so annoying!" Louise shouted. She began pulling at her hair in frustration. "I hate not knowing! There has to be an explanation for this!" The young girl stopped pacing and headed for the door.

"Vere are you going?" Rip asked.

"The library," Louise answered. "There must be answers somewhere. I just need to find them!"

0

The entire campus was abuzz with gossip concerning the duel between Guiche and Louise's strange familiar. Both the student body as well as the castle's serving staff were eagerly talking about the events that had occurred in the vestry courtyard. The news had even started to spread through the faculty, with many of the professors speculating as to the nature of the Valliere girl's strange commoner.

"There is no way that young woman is a commoner," whispered on of the instructors to the other. "I mean, a commoner defeating a noble? Preposterous."

"Indeed," replied the other. "Only magic is capable of allowing such feats."

The commoners in the serving staff, though, were of a different opinion.

"She was amazing," a valet said to one of the maids during their break. "Speed and reflexes, plus her marksmanship with a firearm. She must be a highly skilled knight from one of the human kingdoms beyond the elven lands. That has to be the only explanation. She can't be a mage, she had no wand, plus she didn't cast any spells."

"Oh!" The maid gasped. "Maybe she's a practitioner of one of those esoteric eastern fighting styles. She probably channeled her inner spirit to power herself up!"

And, of course, the male teenage student body had their own opinions.

"Man, Zero's familiar is soooo hot!" stated one bookish looking boy to another. "That hair, those eyes, that accent! And you can tell she's got a great body under those garments!"

"Yeah," his friend wiped away some drool. "Why can't girls our age be as awesome?"

And so it went. At the Alviss Dining Hall, two people were having their own discussion about the events of the duel.

"Well, that was quite unexpected," Kirche von Zerbst said as she ate a late lunch. Next to her sat her friend, Tabitha, who as usual had her nose stuck in a book while she chomped down on a large sandwich. "It serves Guiche right to be so humiliated. I mean, challenging a commoner of all things, to a duel. Hah. Such is the earth mage's folly." A sour look suddenly fell upon her face. "I have to admit, I'm a bit surprised. It seems that Louise did summon a capable familiar. Who knew that bizarre woman would turn out to be a powerful wind mage? Though, it is quite shameless of Valliere to have bound a fellow noble to herself. Sometimes I wonder about that girl."

"No," Tabitha spoke up, her face still hidden behind her book.

Kirche raised an eyebrow. "No? What do you mean no?"

The blue haired girl waited a moment, chewing on her sandwich and swallowing before she answered. "Not a wind mage."

The Germanian frowned at her friend. Come to think of it, during the fight, Tabitha had been remarkably focused on the events; she had even put her book down to watch! "That can't be. What else could this van Winkle girl be if not a wind mage? She's definitely not a fire mage, I can tell you that. And no earth mage could move that fast."

"Not mage," Tabitha continued. She ate a few more bites of her sandwich before continuing. "No focus. No casting."

Huh. Now Kirche was truly puzzled. Tabitha was one of the most observant people she knew, and if the girl said that Louise's familiar wasn't a mage, then she was probably right. "Well, what is she then?"

The blue haired girl paused for a moment. Her eyes peeked over the edge of the book she was reading, and they met Kirche's. The redhead could see both determination and worry within them.

"Dangerous."

0

"Gandalfr, you say?" Professor Colbert's eyes lit up upon hearing what the Headmaster had to say. He had been summoned from his chambers by Ms. Longueville just a few minutes ago, and due to the fact that he had been asleep his state was rather haggard. He didn't have time to fix his appearance as the secretary was insistent that he come quickly, so his hair was a mess as were his robes. "Are you sure?"

The old man nodded solemnly. "Yes, I saw the runes myself. Although I'm not familiar with the exact nature of the sigil, they behaved as the Gandalfr runes of legend. Whenever Miss van Winkle took hold of a weapon, the runes glowed brightly. This, coupled with what she told me about their effects, combined with the fact that she is a _human _summons, makes it quite conclusive. The Founder's legendary familiar, the Gandalfr, the Left Hand of God, has been called forth once more." Osmond sighed, not quite sure what to make of his ominous news.

"Remarkable," Colbert muttered.

"Jean, you told me before that you had sketched down Miss van Winkle's runes and were looking into them," Osmond said. "What have you found?"

The balding instructor suddenly looked very much embarrassed. "Ah... well," he sighed. "Nothing, actually. I'm afraid I was so busy with tracking down Miss Siesta's killer that I completely forgot about checking up on it."

"I see," old Osmond nodded. "If you get the chance, could you please check on them? Though I am convinced that the Valliere familiar is the Left Hand of God, I would still feel more at ease with confirmation."

"Of course," Colbert nodded. He then suddenly had a remarkable thought. "Since Miss Valliere summoned the Gandalfr... does this mean that she is...?"

The Headmaster nodded. "A Void mage. Yes, I am most certain. Only one with the same abilities as our great Founder could have summoned his familiar."

"This... this is a-amazing!" Colbert stuttered. "The implications of this are mind boggling! We must tell the palace at once!"

"Jean, I'm afraid that that is the _last_ thing we could possibly wish to do," the old wizard stated.

"What? But why?" The professor seemed utterly confused. "This news is monumental! A void mage has been born among us! This news could change the world!"

"That is exactly why we must take care, Jean," Osmond said. "This news could rock the entire continent. Shake the very foundations of our faith. Can you imagine what Romalia would do if Tristain began to proclaim that a Void user had been born into one of its most powerful noble families?" The old man snorted. "They would declare us all heretics and send in the Inquisition. As for the country itself! Ha! Can you imagine what those fools in the Court would do if they got their hands on a void mage? It would be utter chaos! They would be fighting against each other to claim her as a weapon. No, for the best interest of the nation as well as Ms. Valliere herself, we must keep this news secret."

Colbert nodded, seeing the old wizard's wisdom. "What of Miss Valliere? Should we tell her? She has the right to know."

Old Osmond rubbed his beard. "I'm not sure if now is the right time. The young Miss Valliere is going through a lot at the moment. I doubt that telling her that she is a legend would truly help."

The professor sighed, but nodded. Poor Louise. So eager to prove herself, yet unable to do so. Well, the least he could do was prod her in the right direction. Now that he knew the reason for her magic being so eccentric, maybe he could help her become the mage she had always wanted to be.

"One more thing, before you go, Jean." The Headmaster asked.

"Yes?"

Osmond looked up at his colleague with a serious expression on his bearded face. "I just have one final question to ask."

Wow, the old man's face looked really grim. "What is it, sir?"

The Headmaster suddenly clasped his hands under his chin and looked up at the professor with watery eyes. "Tell me! Why does that van Winkle girl wear such unflattering clothes?!"

"G-gerk," Colbert flinched. Dammit, he hated when the old man behaved like this!

"She is so cute and delicate, yet she wears such masculine garb," the old man complained. "I demand that she wear something more feminine! Something with ruffles, and pink! And maybe with a short hem and plunging neckline! Heh heh heh... Did you see her kick that golem? Amazing! A girl who can kick like that will have a shapely pair of legs, I can tell you! She should show them off more! Why, in my day..."

As Osmond began to rant on and on about creepier and more perverted things, Colbert merely stood there wondering (not for the first time) how such a skeezy old coot could have been assigned to be the headmaster of such a prestigious school.

Unnoticed by the two, there was a third pair of ears listening by the door. Unlike Colbert, she soon left once the headmaster began his diatribe.

"Void mage... Gandalfr," she muttered to herself as she walked through the halls. "This is valuable news... expensive even." Ms. Longueville smiled. "I believe it is my sacred duty as both a loyal citizen of Tristain as well as a devout follower of Brimir to share this news with the proper people."

The secretary laughed silently to herself as she headed towards her room.


	7. Chapter 7: The Hunt

**VII. The Hunt**

_The girl's parents were fighting again. She hated it when they fought._

_The girl overheard them when she had snuck down in the night, a record of Mozart's The Magic Flute clutched tightly to her chest. The girl had hoped to listen to it despite it being past her bedtime, as she couldn't sleep. Usually her mother would allow her to do so on rough nights like this, whereupon the two of them would curl up on the couch and listen to the wonderful music fill the living room. She would then fall asleep in her mother's warm arms, feeling completely safe and able to forget all about the awful headaches that struck her almost every night. _

_"Damn it, Ada," she heard her father's voice say. Although he tried to keep his volume low, the anger was very evident in its deep timbre. "I thought we agreed not to talk about this anymore."_

_"No, you decided that, Anton." Her mother's voice, though softer, was equally incensed. "It is getting worse out there and you know it. Your brothers' shops were attacked, for goodness sake. And those SA thugs were responsible!" _

_"This will pass, it always does. It was the same right after the war, times are tough now and people are angry. After things get better, Hitler and his dogs will be tossed out, you will see. They use fear to intimidate, but they are wolves without fangs. If we show our fear of them, then they will always win." _

_"Anton, I tell you this is not like before! The entire country is going mad, and to stay means being swept along with the madness!"_

_"And what would you have us do, huh, Ada?" Her father's voice had gotten louder now, and he was no longer keeping his voice down. "Would you have us flee? Leave our home, our friends and family, leave our country behind?"_

_"Yes! Yes, if it means keeping this family safe!" Her mother had also begun shouting, her anger and fear making her voice quiver. _

_"No, no! I will not run! I am a German, damn it. Anyone who says otherwise is a fool. I served ten years in this country's military, that should damn well fucking count for something!"_

_There was silence for a long time in the room, as her parents calmed down and attempted to clear their heads. The girl continued to stand where she was outside the door and listening in, the recording of The Magic Flute clutched tightly to her chest. Tears had begun to drip down her face as she so hated to hear her parents fighting. Especially when they shouted. Especially when she could not understand what they were so angry and frightened of. _

_"We don't have to leave for good," her mother continued. The woman's voice sounded a bit calmer now, though no less scared. "We can go to England, live with my aunt and uncle for a bit. Only until this madness is over with!"_

_Her father laughed, though it was not a laugh of mirth but of bitterness. "Your uncle, huh? You mean the same uncle who called me a dirty Jew on our wedding day? That uncle, Ada?"_

_The girl's parents continued arguing into the night. Eventually, she grew tired of listening and went back up to her room. The headaches, as awful as they were, was much preferable to hearing her parents argue about things she did not understand._

0

Rip Van Winkle's eyes fluttered open. The first thing she saw was darkness. Always the darkness. The darkness had been with her for so long that she couldn't even remember waking to anything other than the black void in front of her. It was so familiar, so safe. And yet she hated it. Hated that she felt so comfortable with it.

Pretty soon, the pure black began to be replaced by various shapes as her vampiric eyes adjusted. She saw the dull black shape of the stone walls of her sleeping area, the coarse black cloth of her makeshift cot. She saw her musket, another black shape among many black shapes. Vampire nightvision was like that, varying shades of black on a black background. She wasn't even sure if she could call it _vision_ per say as there was absolutely no light whatsoever. But her eyes could differentiate one patch of black from another; this was how vampires like her could see in complete and utter darkness.

Her gloveless hands reached up to her face, her fingertips touching wet skin. Yes, tears again. Will they ever end?

The dreams came again, despite the fact that she had fed. Although the dream wasn't too horrible, it was the memories that came with them that made such visions so painful. She didn't want to remember. What mattered to her was the now; she was an officer of Millennium, that was all that mattered. What came before was best forgotten, as all things dead usually were.

Rip sat up on her cot, pushing long black strands of hair away from her eyes. The orbs glowed blue in the darkness, two lanterns of azure in unending black. The small room she was using as a sleeping area was empty, as it had been for centuries, except for her few meager possession. Her musket, of course, was lying by her cot. Her recently procured parasol was leaning against the wall near the entrance. The blankets and sheets she used for bedding. Her boots and gloves. Her glasses.

She idly noticed that there was a small red stain on her shirt. She rubbed at it with a fingertip, but it stubbornly refused to come off. It was obviously from last night's kill; Rip frowned, annoyed that she had stained her only shirt. She was usually a bit tidier when she fed, but last night's hunt was met with all sorts of complications. Thus, she hadn't been as careful with her table manners since she had been pressed for time.

It all started with that blue haired girl. The quiet one with the dragon. It was sometime past midnight, and Rip was preparing to depart to go on her hunt. Her senses detected the girl and her beast flying around the skies above Academy. At first, she thought that the girl was merely out enjoying a flight with her familiar, but the two of them kept circling overhead, seemingly searching for something. Rip didn't know what she was up to, nor did she care. She had to wait until the girl finally retired for the night, as she could not afford to be spotted leaving the castle grounds. Only when her senses were sure that the blue haired girl was safely asleep in her bed did she move.

The power coming from the familiar runes amazed her even now. With a speed she had never known before, Rip ran swiftly into the night. She avoided the roads and sped through the thick woodland instead, where no human eyes could spot her. She was a black blur under the light of the twin moons, moving faster than any vampire she had ever seen except for Luke Valentine. It felt amazing to run that fast, to feel the air part as she cut through it, to be unnoticed except for the wind left in her wake. She felt like a true hunter, a demon of the night.

She made it to the capital city in under half an hour. The settlement was pretty much what she would have expected from a pre-industrial settlement. It had a set of walls manned by a contingent of bored guardsmen. Most of the streets were narrow, with the exception of the main thoroughfares which had to be wide enough to handle the traffic of various goods-laden wagons.

At the moment though, most of the streets were quiet and empty. Unlike the modern cities of Earth, the vast majority of the citizenry were asleep in their beds at such a late hour. Only the sentries and criminals were out and about.

Oh, and vampires, of course. Rip leapt from rooftop to rooftop, looking for prey. She would have preferred to be less conspicuous and stick to the shadows of the streets and alleyways while she hunted, but unfortunately because of her earlier delay, the dawn was fast approaching. It was vital that she get back to the Academy while the sun was still down. Thankfully, her senses were astute as ever and she was able to zero in on an unfortunate soul.

Rip had kept her hunt to the poorer parts of the city, as the richer areas were more likely to be patrolled. She was in a dilapidated part of the slums, one that had a nearby tavern, which was probably why the poor fool she found was passed out in the middle of a dank, dirty alley. The Vampire leapt down from the roofs, her boots making absolutely no sound as she landed atop the cobblestones in a crouch. She checked over the man, and found him to be a rather portly fellow whose course clothing meant that he was either a day laborer or some tradesman. Her fangs grew long as she smelled him, her ears able to hear the strong beating of his heart. There was the stench of alcohol on his breath, but that didn't matter to her; after all, it's not like she could get drunk. She actually found that booze gave the blood a bit of extra flavor, sort of sour yet with a sweet aftertaste.

"Oh, who vould leave such a pretty buffet here, all alone, by himself?" she had asked the night. "Ah vell, finders keepers..."

Before she dug in, Rip spread out her second sight, just to make sure that she was truly alone. After a second of perusing, the vampire saw that the neighborhood was clear. Even though there were humans nearby, they were all asleep, comfy in their beds. She was good to go. Her lips twisted into a sinister grin, teeth lengthening to razor sharpness. Leaning in, the vampire pressed her lips against the man's warm neck. The mockery of a kiss didn't last for too long, as her jaw opened then closed with a snap. Shark-like teeth sank into soft flesh, and soon the scarlet blood began to flow.

To vampires the act of feeding from human prey is perhaps the closest thing their damned souls could hold as sacred. To them, drinking blood is everything; it is how they eat, how they drink, how they reproduce. It is equal parts sating thirst, gorging hunger, achieving sexual release and spiritual nirvana. But it is also when feeding that they are at their most vulnerable. All their attention and being is put into the act, and thus they often fail to notice their surroundings.

That was how the guardsman had found her. He was probably doing his rounds, checking the streets for riff raff, when he heard the noise of her feeding. As the hour was late, the alleyways were pitch black. Though he had a lantern with him, the light provided by the single candle was very dim. Because of this, he didn't know what to make of the sight of two shadows upon the ground moving about. At first he thought it was one of the local whores giving her client a good time. But as he got closer...

"Oi! What's going on here?" He asked aloud, hoping to break up the fun. But then the light from his lamp fell upon the figure of the dark-haired woman with glowing blue eyes, her mouth clamped tightly over a pale man's bleeding neck. The guardsman sputtered and backed away from the sight, gasping madly in fright. "G-good God! Founder help me!" The man scrambled backwards and tried to draw his sword, but it was already too late.

As soon as Rip heard his voice, the vampire pulled her fanged mouth off of the fat laborer's neck. Blood spurted everywhere, but she had already begun moving before any of the scarlet drops could splatter her. She used her considerable speed to dash forwards, her right hand lashing out and clamping shut on the guardsman's neck. Her momentum carried both of them over to the other side of the alley, where she slammed his form against the brick wall. There she held him, grip tight on his jaw, whilst her other hand clutched at her musket.

"N-n-no... God... no..." The guardsman sputtered, dropping his sword as he desperately tried to pry Rip's vice like grip from his neck. The vampire watched him struggle, her mind still partly in a feeding haze. The man she held was young and quite handsome. He also seemed healthier than her earlier meal, as she could tell from the strong thumping of his racing heart. "Please... please," the young man pleaded with her, hoping that the monster before him would have pity and spare his life.

"Shhhh," Rip cooed as she leaned in, breathing in his scent. The smell of him made her mind heady with lust, and her mouth salivated with passion. She pushed his jaw to one side, baring his tanned neck. She opened her mouth, revealing rows of knife-sharp fangs; from this jagged maw emerged her long, serpentine tongue. It licked at the air, tasting the blood on the wind, before slithering forwards and slathering against the exposed skin of his neck. The man flinched and whimpered, muttering a soft prayer under his breath. As she licked, enjoying the salty taste of his perspiration. When she felt the strength of his pulse beating against her tongue, her blood lust soared and she saw red. With a snarl, the vampire bit down and the man gasped in pain. She drank. His body began to feel lighter and lighter in her grip as she sucked his lifeblood within her.

The dark deed was finished within twelve minutes. The vampire released her grip on the guardsman and he fell to the alley floor like a rough sack of potatoes. Rip shivered in pleasure at the feeling of being fully fed; it was a tingling feeling, one that radiated from her chest and outwards into her limbs.

The vampire glanced over at her first meal, and saw the laborer's form convulsing. His pale face gasped, blood dripping from his mouth, and his eyes were wide open but glazed with death. Rip sighed in annoyance when she realized that she had left the man alive while she dealt with the guardsman. Already, she could feel the transformation occurring, and soon the fat drunk would be a full-fledged ghoul if she didn't act.

Rip reached down and picked up the dead guardsman's sword. She then walked over to her first victim and began hacking away. First she sliced through his neck and severed the head, making sure to avoid the splash of blood. Then came the limbs and finally the torso. Thankfully the man had already been partially drained, so the mess wasn't too bad. It was still a nuisance though. She had originally planned on carrying the body into the woods, where she would dismember it in order to avoid having the pieces found. Oh well, it couldn't be helped.

She quickly went over to the guardsman and did the same to him. Since his body was completely drained, there were no blood splashes. In order to cover her tracks a bit more, she tossed the guard's pieces onto the mess that was her first victim. Hopefully the authorities wouldn't be able to tell that all the blood at the scene had only come from one body.

The trip back to the Academy was as quiet as the first, though this time she pushed herself to move more swiftly. Dawn was swiftly approaching and it would be much, much harder to sneak back into the castle with the sun up.

And so her first venture out into the world outside the Academy had occurred. True, it hadn't all gone according to her plan, but at least she hadn't been caught. And she did accomplished what she had set out to do, despite all the minor setbacks.

Sadly, the blood hadn't kept the dreams away. Rip knew that the dreams would keep coming and coming every time she slept, and that the scenes they show would continue to get worse and worse until she would go mad.

_Four pills left._ She needed to save them. Save them for the truly bad nightmares. Save them for

_Her blond hair, stained in blood. _

_The feel of the smoking pistol, heavy in her hand._

_The sound of her father's voice in her ear, so distraught. "I'm sorry."_

Yes. She would save them.


	8. Chapter 8: The Priest

**VIII. The Priest**

Cardinal Quincy entered the rather run-down church, eyeing the dilapidated structure with distaste. Unlike the other houses of worship in Romalia, this church was located in a poor peasant village just outside the capital. Thus it didn't have the usual splendor found in the typical Romalian cathedrals. There were no grand vaulted ceilings, nor were there awe-inspiring stained glass windows. The walls were not lined with expensive tapestries nor were there any magnificent reliefs sculpted by famous artists. Instead, the church that he was in now had creaky wooden floors, unpolished pews, and regular glass windows. Up at the altar, where the symbol of Brimir would usually be found, there hung a strange emblem. It resembled two swords clashing together at ninety degree angles. It was a simple yet powerful design.

Kneeling before the altar was the man the Cardinal had been sent to speak with. Said man was a tall one when standing, well over six feet in height. He had brown skin and black hair streaked with gray, features that marked him as a foreigner in these parts. His eyes also had an odd slant to them, a feature that Quincy always found unsightly. Unlike the other priests of the Church, who wore regal white robes and much finery as befitting their holy station, this priest wore only simple garments of black. He had a black shirt, black pants, black coat and black shoes; the only other color that the foreigner wore was the white on his collar. A pendant of the same strange symbol that was hanging over the altar also hung around the priest's neck. Only this one wasn't made of wood, but pure silver.

As the Cardinal approached, he heard the man's soft deep voice reciting some type of prayer in a strange language.

"Ama namin, sumasalangit Ka

Sambahin ang ngalan Mo

Mapasaamin ang kaharian Mo

Sundin ang loob Mo

Dito sa lupa, para nang sa langit.

"Bigyan Mo kami ngayon ng aming kakanin sa araw araw.

At patawarin Mo kami sa aming mga sala,

Para nang pagpapatawad namin

Sa mga nagkakasala sa amin.

At huwag Mo kaming ipahintulot sa tukso,

At iadya Mo kami sa lahat ng masama.

Sapagkat Iyo ang kaharian, at kapangyarihan,

At ang kadakilaan, magpakailanman."

The man stopped his prayer when Quincy approached. Instead of a greeting, the strange man merely raised his head up and asked, "What task does His Holiness wish me to undertake?"

Quincy frowned, unable to help but feel distrust for the person before him. Although the man called himself a priest, he was like no priest Quincy had ever met before. For one thing, he was always willing to forgo staying in the capital, choosing instead to live a life of abject poverty among the dirty peasantry. The man also refused to attend services or even perform them, and he always dressed like some common grave digger. His every behavior was an affront to the glory of the Church, yet Pope Victor kept his council. But even with all his reservations, Cardinal Quincy had to admit: this man had his uses.

Such as what he needed done today...

"Father Montoya," the Brimir Church official stated, frowning at both the strange name and unfamiliar title. "His Holiness has received some very disturbing information from Tristain. They say there is someone there, a young child, who is able to use the Founder's magic."

The man in black made a strange motion with his hand, tapping his forehead, then chest, then left and right shoulder, before standing up to his full height. He towered over the other priest, and Quincy forced himself not to flinch under his stern, black gaze.

"This news," Quincy forced himself to continue, "is an affront to all that our faith stands for. It is heretical and an outright lie. If it were up to me, I would purge every man, woman and child from that miserable-"

"But it is _not_ up to you," Montoya interrupted. "What has His Holiness decreed?"

The older man's face twisted in fury at the foreigner's insulting tone, but quickly calmed himself. It was no use to lash out at this man, this demon, before him. Quincy had seen him in action once before, and there was no way he would dare incur the Black Priest's wrath. "The Pope wishes for you to go to Tristania and meet with this supposed... Void mage. See what he is about, find out whatever you can."

"And then?"

"Well, if he is just some crazy person or a charlatan, then do nothing. It is of no big consequence. But," Quincy smirked. "If this person does show signs of having this... power, then you are to bring him to us. Quickly and as quietly as possible. The Tristanian court is not to know."

Father Montoya nodded. "Understood." He turned away from Quincy, then made his way to the altar. The tall man reached behind it and pulled out two swords, which were rapiers by the looks of their scabbards. He clipped both weapons onto his belt, then moved towards the exit. His dark eyes shone with cold steel as he prepared to leave on his mission.

"Do not forget, foreign priest!" Cardinal Quincy called to him as he marched across the aisle towards the doorway. "You serve God and the Founder, as well as the Church of Romalia! Do not let pity for these heathens cloud your judgement!"

The black priest continued out the door, not saying anything in answer except for one word.

"Amen."

His right hand clenched into a fist, and upon the back of it a set of intricate runes began to glow.


	9. Chapter 9: Exhibition

**IX. Exhibition**

_Her uncle's shop was busy, as it often was these days. Because of the current political climate, the nation's Jewish populace often didn't have very many places to shop for goods such as food and clothing. Their only options were the Jewish owned businesses in their own neighborhoods, though there were fewer and fewer of those as time went on. Thankfully, her uncle had some connections with several foreign manufacturers, and they sold him goods at a discount. His shop was probably the only thing keeping the surrounding neighborhood supplied._

_There were no less than thirty people inside the small store at any given time. After one customer left with their purchases, another would enter. This often went on for hours as there was usually a long line found outside the shop, composed of people needing to buy food and other essentials. _

_The girl, a teenager with rich black hair tied back into a long braid, worked the counter. She had dark blue eyes and a spatter of freckles upon her pale cheeks. A pair of thick glasses made her look a bit bookish, which added with her shy demeanor made her seem very delicate. She had gotten the job from her uncle, who ran the store, and he payed her as much as he could spare. Although they tried to hide it, he knew that his brother's family was going through rough times. Anton had been fired from his high-paying teaching position at the university two years ago and, sadly, had never recovered. He often stayed at home, moping about one thing or another, barely talking to anyone. He had also taken to drinking, and was quite unpleasant to be around when he was drowning his sorrows in a bottle. To support the family, the girl and her mother had gotten jobs wherever they could. _

_"Thank you very much, please come again," the teenager told the old woman who had just bought some eggs, milk and flour. The aged lady shuffled off with her purchases, and the girl quickly turned to the next customer. Before she could help him though, she heard a commotion from the front door. _

_Stepping into the shop was a sight no one in a Jewish-owned business wanted to see. The crowd at the entrance parted, and in their wake came a man dressed in a full SS uniform. He was a chubby man, wearing spectacles over calculating, hazel eyes. Following behind him was another figure, this one much more imposing. The SS officer's companion was immensely tall and also wore a military uniform, though his looked to be from the regular army. The brim of his cap and the collar of his long greatcoat obscured most of the man's features. His entire demeanor screamed danger, and his cold eyes struck one to the bone with fear. All of the customers upon seeing the two quickly fled, escaping the confines of the store in an orderly yet rushed manner. _

_The girl's uncle paled, while the girl herself turned her attention to the counter top, her heart beating madly in her chest. After looking around the shop for a bit, the chubby man moved towards the two of them while his giant of a companion remained standing stiffly near the entrance. _

_"G-good morning, sir. What can I do for you today?" Her uncle moved up to the front of the counter, subtly interspersing himself between the man and his niece. _

_"Good morning," the Nazi greeted, a pleasant smile on his face. "Actually I was hoping to speak with the lovely young woman over there." The man pointed to the teenager cowering behind him. _

_Her uncle frowned. "What is this about?"_

_The chubby man ignored the question and turned his eyes towards the girl. "Hello there! Would you happen to be Freulein **#######**?"_

_The girl, obviously quite terrified, continued to stare at her feet. Eventually, knowing that she had to answer, she nodded._

_"Ah good," the SS Officer clapped his gloved hands together, seemingly pleased. He then turned his attention back to her uncle. "Leave us," he ordered. _

_"What?" Her uncle looked extremely worried now, his white face turning paler. "Now see here..." He wanted to protest further but was forced to silence by a withering stare from the tall man at the front entrance. The uncle quieted down, rubbing at his short blond hair. Knowing that he really didn't have any choice, the poor man left. He looked extremely ashamed as he passed by his niece. _

_"Well, then," the chubby man continued, his voice speaking in a friendly, pleasant tone. "Let us get down to business, shall we?" He quickly held up his right hand and smiled. "I am Major **- -."**_

_The girl frowned at his hand, but reached up and shook it anyway. Upon grasping it, the Major leaned forwards and for a moment she was worried that he would kiss her hand, but thankfully the man stopped some inches above the skin, merely bowing low. _

_"I am so pleased to meet you finally," the man continued as he straightened up and let go of her hand. "I have heard so much about you."_

_"Me?" The girl squeaked out pitifully. _

_"Now now, Fraulein **#######**, there's no need to sound so modest!" The Major laughed. "One of such talents need not hide it. I actually saw you trying out for the Olympic team. Your marksmanship was superb! Every shot always found its mark! I have seen many a veteran soldier from many, many battlefields, and they are masters at their craft, but you, my dear, are on a whole other level. You are... like the hunter of legend; your bullet never misses."_

_The girl continued to frown, looking at the Nazi dully as he continued to taut her talents. She had heard it all before, of course, even from the judges at the Olympic tryouts. But once they saw her last name, all their praises turned to jeers and before they expelled her. She found herself feeling bitter about the entire situation; what was the point of having such a talent when she would never have the chance to use it?_

_"Anyway, you are probably curious as to what I am doing here. I know, in your position, I would be. I mean, a Nazi. In a Jew shop! Oh, the scandal!" He chuckled before continuing. "Ah, where to begin? Hmmm." The Major paced for a moment, a fingertip tapping his chin in thought. He eventually stopped pacing, then leaned towards her, elbows atop the counter. "I am the head of a very... unique branch of the Waffen SS. We look for very special people, such as yourself, in hopes of finding out just what exactly makes you so special. We have the top scientific minds of the nation at our disposal, and work for the good of all the citizens of Germany." The Major's eyes began to widen as he talked, and the girl could see a spark of manic joy within them as he described his organization. "We are Millennium. We work towards conquering the future! We work towards a thousand years of glory!"_

_The girl merely stared in wide-eyed shock as the strange man in front of her ranted. She had to admit, his words were electrifying; she felt her pulse racing, impressed at such grand ideals. Was this how Hitler did it? Was this how he roused up his supporters to greater and greater heights of madness and cruelty?_

_"And," the Major continued, "We want you to join us."_

_The teenager's eyes only widened even more. "M-me?" The man nodded. "I'm sorry, you want me to join the SS?" She asked again, completely stupefied at such an offer. The man nodded even more eagerly. "B-but, sir. I am a woman. And... and a Jew." She stated the obvious, speaking slowly as if she were talking to a mentally challenged child. _

_"Bah!" The Major waved his hand and rolled his eyes, as if the concerns she had raised were completely arbitrary. "We have plenty of women in our ranks. Plus, we serve the Fuhrer more in a research capacity, so you will not see combat. As for your heritage, well, technically you are Mischling, a half-breed. Your mother is Aryan, is she not?"_

_The girl nodded._

_"Well, there you go. Personally I don't really understand this whole Jew, no Jew policy. I mean, a Jew soldier can still kill and get killed, can he not? What does race got to do with shooting straight? I don't get it." He then shrugged and laughed. "Ah, but I don't make the rules. Richer, smarter men than me do that. My job is to make sure that they continue to do so." Upon seeing that the girl still wasn't convinced, he continued to make assurances. "But if you are still concerned, then we can get a writ of exemption for you, signed by the Fuhrer himself! Oh yes, our great leader listens to me you know. I have his ear." _

_The Major leaned in closer to her, his voice dropping to a whisper. His eyes narrowed, the irises behind his spectacles glinting with amusement. "Trust me, fraulein. He will sign. Once he sees what you are capable of, he will most definitely want you on our side." The chubby man then abruptly pulled back and gave her a friendly, personable smile. "Well, think on it. Here is my information," he reached into his coat and pulled out a small business card, placing the white square atop the counter for her to take. "If you have any questions, please phone me. I am always happy to help potential members with any concerns they may have. Now then, good day." _

_The Major bowed, then turned swiftly on a heel and marched towards the exit. Before leaving, he stopped by the door and glanced around, his eyes taking in the details of the shop. "One more thing, fraulein. I feel as though it is my duty to give you some warning." His hazel eyes drifted back to her and he smiled. "There may be a storm coming, a storm caused by the more... exuberant members of my party. When that storm comes, places such as this," he waved his arms to encompass the shop, "may be blown over. It is my advice that you have someone watch over the ones you care about."_

_The girl's held her breath, thinking of her uncle, with his shop his only livelihood. She thought of her cousin, Greta, who had studied so hard at school yet could not gain entrance to a University. She thought about her poor mother, so hard at work at the factory, making so much less than she should. And then she thought of her father, the poor broken man who was once so strong._

_"And who better to watch over your friends and loved ones, to guard them against the wolves that may come, than one of the wolves themselves?" The Major grinned. "Think on it, fraulein." With a tip of his hat, he was gone. Soon the tall man followed him, leaving without a word, and so the girl was left alone in the shop._

_She told her parents over dinner that night about the strange conversation she had just had. Upon hearing it, her father brightened considerably. _

_"You see, Ada," he said, a rare smile on his face. "Didn't I tell you this madness would soon pass? I told you that as soon as things got better, all this nonsense would end. And see? A member of Hitler's own SS wishes for our daughter, OUR daughter, to join their ranks! I was right, Ada! I told you!" He laughed, though it sounded somewhat desperate. "Pretty soon things will get back to the way they were before. Germany will survive this, like I said! You were worried over nothing."_

_After that, her father continued to pester her to call the Major and accept his offer. Eventually he broke down her resolve; most people usually did. She was a shy, gentle girl and very often could never muster up the courage or will to say no. She found that it was usually better to just let things happen as they do and accept things as they come. _

_When she did call the Major and told him that she agreed to join his group, the man sounded very pleased. "Excellent. Welcome aboard."_

_And just like that, she had become a Nazi._

0

Louise was surprised to find her familiar seated at one of the round tables in the courtyard during so early an hour. She had just finished breakfast and had some time before her first class of the morning, so she was heading to the library to do more research on Rip's bizarre runes. That was when she came across the dark haired woman, seated alone at the table, her stolen parasol open and held overhead. The ever present musket was also with her, laying across the table and within easy reach.

As she approached, Louise's ears picked up on a strange, lilting sound. It was then that she realized that her familiar was singing a song softly to herself. As she got closer she managed to make out the words. The tune was soft, though the softness in which it was sung held an ominous tone.

"Schweig, schweig, damit dich niemand warnt...

Schweige, damit dich niemand warnt...

Der Hölle Netz hat dich umgarnt...

Nichts kann vom tiefen Fall dich retten,

Nichts kann dich retten vom tiefen Fall!

Umgebt ihn, ihr Geister, mit Dunkel beschwingt!

Schon trägt er knirschend eure Ketten!

Triumph, Triumph, Triumph, die Rache gelingt!"

Rip stopped singing when she noticed Louise standing nearby. A frown twisted her lips, and she was slightly annoyed at the audience. But her gruff look quickly vanished after a moment, and soon the sniper gave the girl a small smile. "Guten morgan, Louise."

The pink haired girl was snapped out of her stupor and coughed, slightly embarrassed at being caught listening. "Oh. Um, good morning." She quickly took a seat at the table, directly across from her familiar. "That was... wow. I didn't know you could sing."

The dark haired woman chuckled, her dull eyes twinkling in amusement. "Nonsense. I am just a simple marksman, my voice is amateurish at best. Vhen compared to zose performers on stage, I am nothing."

"No, no! I mean it! You have a beautiful voice. I... I'm just surprised I never noticed." Louise bit her lip, then clapped in delight. "Oh! That's what you can do at the fair! You can sing!"

Her familiar only looked at her with a blank expression. "Ze vat?"

"The Evaluation Fair!" Louise told her. Upon seeing the woman's continuing bewilderment, she explained further. "You know, the Familiar Evaluation Fair? The one all second years are required to participate in?" Still blank. "The one where students show off their familiars' abilities to an audience and judges?" Her familiar continued to look on in confusion. "The one I've been talking about for the past two days?!"

"Oh. Zhat." Rip shrugged. She sort of recalled Louise talking about something along those lines, but she had been distracted and hadn't been paying very close attention. It had been almost a week since her duel with Guiche, and in that time her dreams had been coming with increasing frequency. Images and memories best left forgotten continually assaulted her while she slept, and she had been debating whether or not to use one of Dok's pills.

_Four left._

"It'll be great!" Louise continued, snapping Rip out of her dark thoughts. "To show off your talents, you can sing one of your Germanian songs and wow the judges with your voice! We can even dress you up in a costume! You'll look great in a dazzling robe! Or maybe a gorgeous gown or a jeweled cape!" The pink haired girl was almost squealing in girlish glee, very much looking forward to dressing up her familiar like a doll. "Ha! Let's see Kirche's stupid salamander do anything like that!"

"No, I don't sink so," Rip said, her face twisted in distaste upon hearing the part about dressing up. "I sink I'll just shoot at targets."

"But... but!" Louise looked up and gave her familiar the most devastating kicked puppy look Rip had ever seen. The vampire cringed, and it took all of her demonic willpower not to give in.

"Nein," the dark haired woman said with finality. "I am a sharpshooter, little master. Zhat is vat I shall do."

"Oh, fine!" The girl relented, though mentally she swore to herself that she'd get her familiar to wear a dress one of these days. "But you better not miss!"

Rip laughed. "Louise, please. I _never_ miss."

0

The woman known as Ms. Longueville looked down at the items collected atop the desk, going over all of them to make sure that she was ready for what was to come. Allayed before her were maps of the school grounds, the positions of the Academy sentries marked in red ink. Her wand lay ready, as did a cloak that was enchanted to hide her identity. There were bags of jewels and gold coins appropriated from some of the nearby noble estates, which would allow her to pay her way out of the country when she made her escape.

Finally, after months of work laying in wait at this school, performing menial tasks and putting up with the perverted old fool of a Headmaster, she was ready to strike. The Evaluation Fair would be the perfect time to pull off her heist. With the Princess Henrietta in attendance, the majority of Academy security had been co-opted to guard her. That would leave the school's vault ripe for the picking.

And within it the Staff of Destruction, the legendary magical artifact that allowed even the weakest Dot mage to defeat a dragon in one blast. If she could retrieve that powerful item, then she could guarantee the safety of those she cared about.

"I won't fail," she told herself with grim determination. Foquet the Crumbling Dirt _never_ failed.

0

The day of the Familiar Evaluation Fair had finally come. A large stage had been erected in the main courtyard, with seats for the audience placed in front of it. Off to the side, a separate shaded tent had been put up in order to house the judges, one of whom was the current ruler of the country.

The students who were participating were very excited. For days previous they had been working with their familiars to practice for the upcoming event. They trained their beasts to perform all manner of tricks, from catching tossed items to balancing on balls. Kirche had even taught her salamander Flame to belch out fire that was twisted into intricate shapes. All in all the festival was truly a chance for the students to show off their familiars to their peers and family, also serving as a debut of sorts for the up and coming mages.

Louise, unlike her classmates, fretted in nervous anticipation. Unlike the rest of the students, who saw the event as a fun and exciting distraction from classes, she knew that she needed to do well. She had actually managed to summon a pretty impressive familiar, and she wanted everyone to know it. She wanted Rip to win! After all, the familiar is a reflection of its master, therefore the accomplishments of the familiar are also those of its master.

Rip, in contrast to her summoner, showed no nervousness whatsoever. She was currently seated in the grass, leaning against the stone wall next to the stage. Her musket was draped across one shoulder, right hand resting lazily against the barrel. Her left held up a musket ball, and she was ever so slowly rolling the lead sphere between her fingers. The dark haired woman's face was blank, her features drooped down in an almost stupor whilst she rolled the dark lead ball over and over again. Through the thin fabric of her gloves, her fingertips were able to feel every groove, every scratch, every imperfection in the smooth metal. She noted its color, its smell, its weight. She memorized all of the tiny details, imprinting everything into her mind. Only once she was able to fully picture the bullet, with all of its characteristics and imperfections inside her head, did she finally push the ball into the muzzle of her gun. She then used the ramming rod to jam the .75 caliber ball all the way down into the breech where it became seated tightly into the powder. Once fully loaded, the familiar leaned back and raised her head up towards the sky, calmly waiting for their turn on stage. The sun felt warm on her pale face, the rays causing her skin to slightly tingle and burn. It was painful, but harmless. The pain was calming in its own way.

"Are you ready?" Her diminutive master asked from nearby.

Rip gave the girl a sardonic grin. "Ov course, little master. I am alvays ready to set loose my jezail."

0

The Exhibition commenced. The second year students all gathered next to stage, each of them eagerly awaiting their turn. Their familiars were just as excited, wishing to serve their masters well in performing to the amusement of the audience and judges.

Most of the tricks done by the participants were less than stellar, like the boy who had his dog jump about on stage on its hind legs or the girl who had her cat chase a ball of yarn. Guiche, still moping from his loss at the duel, tried his best to be his usual flamboyant self, but everyone could tell he really wasn't into it. As soon as he stepped up onto the stage, he introduced his mole Verdandi to the assembled guests, then created some blooming roses for the giant rodent to play on. The blond boy then quietly left the stage, not even bowing to the applause like he usually would have.

The rest of the students did quite better. Montmorency's show was quite entertaining, as she played the violin while her little frog danced to the tune. Malicorne had his owl fly around the courtyard, a stream of colorful ribbons trailing behind in its talons. Kirche impressed a lot of people when she had Flame create startling shapes from the fire of its breath. But perhaps the most spectacular display was Tabitha's; the blue haired girl had her dragon Sylphid perform a set of impressive airborne acrobatics while she rode bravely upon its back. It was quite the sight to behold, to see a young and delicate looking girl masterfully command such a powerful beast.

Finally, it was Louise and Rip's turn. Professor Colbert announced Louise's name, and the two marched steadily on stage. There were whispered comments from the audience, as many students wondered what Louise's familiar would be up to. They were very eager and anticipated a fine show, one that they hoped would be just as exciting as the duel with Guiche had proven to be. Some of the visiting guests, those who weren't at the school during said event, murmured in confusion to themselves, wondering why the short girl on stage had brought a tall dark haired woman carrying a musket with her and not some type of magical creature.

"I..." Louise addressed the audience nervously. She had a pensive look on her face, looking as if the audience might leap up and bite her face off at any moment. "I..." Her pink eyes glanced to the far left of the stage and found the tent which housed the two judges. There she met the Princess's eyes, whereupon the royal gave her an encouraging smile. This seemed to give the young girl strength, and she quickly turned back to the audience and finished her introduction. "I am Louise Francois le Blanc de la Valliere, and this is my familiar, Rip Van Winkle."

Rip raised an eyebrow at such a familiar display occurring between the royal and her master. Perhaps the two knew each other? Most curious.

"Her type is... um..." Louise continued, though her face suddenly turned red.

"Go ahead, Louise," Kirche called out. Though her tone was disparaging, she honestly wanted to know. There were all sorts of rumors going on as to just what her familiar actually was. Was she a commoner? A wind mage? A foreign monk from the mysterious east who used some weird sort of esoteric fighting style?

"Yeah, tell us!" called out another student. His entreaty was followed by others, until finally, Louise just couldn't stand it anymore.

"She's a COMMONER! Alright?!" She shouted.

There was a mixture of disappointment from some in the audience, along with cheers of glee from others, as some hopes were dashed while others raised. From the back of the assembly where the teachers were, there was much grumblings of irritation as the professors began taking out various sums of gold and passing it over to members of the Academy staff. It was quite obvious that a few bets were made, and a lot more lost.

"What? A human familiar?" asked some of the guests who hadn't been there for the duel.

"My word!"

"My familiar will now show you all a feat of amazing marksmanship!" Louise continued, ignoring the small uproar her previous proclamation had stirred.

Seven manservants emerged from behind the stage, each carrying long poles that had a wooden target board held in place at its end. Each of the men moved to various random points around the audience, raising the poles with the targets up high. After they were in place, a maid walked on stage; in her hands was a silver platter with a single red apple upon it. She stood next to Rip and remained silent.

The vampire familiar looked over the assembled audience, then gave them a wide grin. "Pay attention, now. And don't blink," she said aloud with gusto.

Rip raised the musket in her right hand and aimed the sights towards the first target, which was located to the far right of the stage. The guardsmen who were there to provide security for the princess almost drew their swords to stop her, but the brown haired woman waved them down. Henrietta watched the spectacle with curiosity. Was the piece of intelligence from her spymaster correct? Was the news the palace received about Louise and her strange familiar true?

"What is this peasant going to do? Shoot at all the targets one handed?" asked one of the students' parents. He had arrived early that morning to see his son and his familiar perform, so he hadn't been there to witness the events of the duel.

"Bah, how pointless," remarked another visiting noble. "Will we have to watch her reload one-handed as well?" This was met with chuckles from his group.

All the grumblings were silenced when Rip pulled the trigger. Her weapon went off with a massive roar, causing several of the familiars at attendance to shriek in fright. The audience gasped as the target she had been aiming for was hit dead center. The assembly began to clap politely, quite pleased with her marksmanship, when suddenly the target on the far left of the stage was hit, a large round hole appearing in the bulls-eye.

A second after that, the other targets began to be pierced as well, all of them dead center. What's more, with the targets' positioning, there was no way a bullet could have hit them all in a straight line. The center target was hit, then the one to the far left, then the far right, and far left again. Once the final target had been hit, bulls-eye no less, the audience was astonished into silence.

But Rip wasn't finished with her show yet, as she reached behind her and picked up the apple from the maid's platter. With a wink to the startled assembly, she tossed said apple high into the air whereupon it was intercepted by bright trails of blue light. Over and over it was hit, and it soon dawned on the audience that the strange azure trails was actually the afterimage of the musket ball as it zipped through the air at tremendous speeds. After piercing the apple numerous times, the fruit fell to the stage floor whereupon it burst open, falling neatly into eight even, separate pieces.

The audience was struck dumb as they tried to digest what they had just witnessed. Had a commoner truly performed such a miracle using a simple musket, or were their eyes playing tricks on them? The group to recover from their shock first were the students, since they had seen Louise's familiar perform such feats before. They jumped to their feet and began clapping, many cheering and whistling loudly. Pretty soon the others in the audience joined in, adding their claps and cheers to the general din.

Rip smiled politely and took a bow, not really enjoying all the praise. To tell the truth, she was quite uncomfortable with the sight and sounds of humans cheering her; she was much more familiar with the screams of fear and horror that usually greeted her when she was around. The vampire, feeling slightly nauseated, glanced over at her master and found that the girl had quite the opposite reaction. Whereas Rip looked as if she wanted to crawl under a large rock, Louise was almost beside herself with joy. The pink haired girl was smiling brightly, her eyes obviously holding back delighted tears. Her little master ate up all the accolade being heaped upon them, and Rip couldn't help but have a genuine smile after seeing the effect it had on her.

Louie turned to her familiar and gave the other woman a beaming grin, one that Rip just had to return. The small girl then reached out and gave her familiar a small, tender pat on the arm, before turning her attention back at the cheering audience. That small touch, that brief ephemeral graze, had been perhaps the only show of affection that the vampire had had in a long, long time. Rip felt her heart turn heavy, and she found herself in very real danger of tearing up.

Oh well. She could always blame the tears on joy if they ever came. Thankfully, they did not. As a vampire, Rip Van Winkle was very good at hiding her true emotions, at lest in front of a crowd. Therefore no one there saw her deep sorrow, no one except for a sharp-eyed little girl with bright blue hair. A girl who had a dragon, a girl who was also a master at hiding her own sorrow from the eyes of the ordinary people around her.


	10. Chapter 10: The Crumbling Dirt

**X. The Crumbling Dirt**

"How!?" Louise all but shouted, her voice raspy with both anger and frustration. "How did we not win?"

Rip chose to remain silent, looking somewhat grim as she followed her diminutive master. Her right hand held her parasol overhead, thus keeping herself within the shade provided by the pink canvas. The other hand held her musket, its barrel resting comfortably across a shoulder. The vampire's eyes remained firmly staring into the distance, not really seeing anything as she was deep in though. Although the sniper hated to admit it, Rip actually did want to win the contest. Despite trying not to, she had found playing to a live and appreciative audience fun. She had enjoyed seeing their awe at her abilities, and though she was still a bit uncomfortable with their praise, she had been happy at the joy the adulation it managed to bring to Louise. She'd never seen her young summoner so happy before.

It was just too bad that it hadn't lasted.

The two of them were currently walking away from the stage where the Familiar Evaluation Fair was being held; they didn't really have any destination in mind, but had just started walking to ease their frustrations. Just a few moments ago, the winner of the event was announced. Although Professor Colbert said that it had been a tough decision, ultimately it was Tabitha and her dragon who had won the prize. Louise, to put it mildly, had been incredibly disappointed. Upon hearing the announcement, all the joy and happiness the girl had been showing earlier vanished completely, and Rip was afraid that the her master would collapse into a dead faint. Thankfully that didn't happen. When Tabitha ascended the stage to accept her prize, Louise quietly left. Rip followed her without a word.

"I was so _sure_ you were going to win!" Louise continued as she stomped across the courtyard's pristine lawn. "You _should_ have won! We had the audience eating out of our hands! This is so unfair!"

The vampire silently agreed. She felt robbed.

The two, still fuming at their loss, began to cross under one of the stanchions separating one courtyard from another. As they crossed into the adjoining lawn, both of them stopped upon seeing a most unusual sight. Before them, taking up most of the quad, was a gigantic construction of earth and stone. Rising up more than a hundred feet into the sky, the monster was almost as tall as the Academy's central tower itself. Its general shape was human, though quite a bit more stocky, with short, stumpy legs and no head. Instead, at the center of its chest were crude approximations of eyes made from separate, carved out stones. The wrists of both of its thick, gorilla-like arms had vicious looking spikes jutting from the rock.

"G-Golem!" Louise spat out in shock.

Rip stared up at the massive construct, her eyes wide and mouth dropping open. "Golem? You mean like ze vones Guiche made?"

"No, this one's way bigger!" Louise began to back up from the gigantic monstrosity.

"Vay to state the obvious, master," Rip remarked dryly.

Suddenly, the vampire caught movement atop the golem. Focusing her eyes, Rip saw that standing on the construct's left shoulder was a mysterious figure garbed in a full black cloak. Its hood was up over its face, and for some reason her sharp vampiric vision could not penetrate the shadows beneath it. What was more worrying was the fact that Rip could not _sense_ the figure at all. True, she couldn't sense the gigantic golem either, but that was easy to explain since the thing wasn't alive. But she should have been able to feel the figure standing on top of golem, since it was a living, breathing, thinking being. Hell, Rip's sixth sense was so keen that she could even sense other vampires most of the time.

Yet here she was completely unable to feel the man, or woman, riding atop the golem. It was like he didn't exist, a shadow that she couldn't touch with her mind. Could he be using a spell of some sort to block her ability? Did they even have a spell that could do that? Rip cursed, and she now very much regretted sleeping through Louise's magic classes.

"Well, hell." The voice drifted down to the two of them coming from the golem's rider. It sounded strange to Rip's ears. It sounded... off. Not exactly disguised like a mechanical device from her world would do, but for whatever reason she could not fathom anything about it. As she heard his speech, it sounded like a normal, regular voice; yet when she tried to focus on it, to figure out how it sounded like, what it's tone was, or even whether it belonged to a man or woman, she found herself failing.

"I had hoped that with the fair in full swing, all you little brats would have been distracted," the figure continued. "And, of course, with my luck, the one who accidentally walks in on me is the brat with the Gandalfr!"

_The what?_ Rip asked herself.

"No matter," the figure waved his wand, and soon the golem began moving. It lifted its massive arm, which was the size of one of the Parthenon's gigantic stone columns, high overhead. (Rip knew this because the Major kept one of said columns on display back in Millennium, H.Q.) "Consider both of yourselves even more unfortunate, because I can't allow any witnesses to survive!" With that, the giant's arm fell.

Rip acted quickly, dropping her parasol and snatching up Louise. She then launched herself backwards, feeling the runes in her left hand flare to life. Due to her enhanced vampiric speed, the two of them managed to make it to a safe distance twenty meters back even before the golem's heavy fist slammed into the ground. A cloud of dust and upturned dirt exploded into the air upon impact, showering both of them with clods of earth.

"I sink it is time for us to make a quick vithdrawal, little master," the vampire said, extremely ill at ease. Not only was there a hundred foot tall rock monster attacking her, but the person controlling it did not register at all with her sixth sense. She was way out of her element here, and that was something she did not like. At all.

"Leave?" Louise asked her, completely shocked that her familiar would even suggest such a thing. "We can't leave! That thing is attacking the Academy!"

"Louise..." Rip wanted to protest, but the determined look on the other girl's face shut her up.

"It is my duty, as a noble of House Valliere, to stand up against all enemies who seek to harm my home and country. Well, right now, the Academy is my home and I will protect it!" She then angrily jabbed a finger at Rip's direction. "And as _my_ familiar, it is your duty to help me! Didn't you swear to me that you would do so?" She asked, an accusing tone in her manner.

"Bah, all right! All right! Ve'll fight ze damn thing," Rip said, her face frowning in distaste. She reached up and pulled the ramming rod our of her musket. As she began digging into her pockets for ammunition, she spoke. "First I need to reload, so go and distract it for me, vould you?" Unfortunately, because of the earlier trickshot at the evaluation, her musket was empty. She silently cursed her sloppiness as she began the long and lengthy reloading process.

"D-distract it?" Louise gulped. "Me?"

"Ov course!" Rip said, irritated, as she bit open one of the paper cartridges containing ball and powder. "You're a mage, blast it vith a spell or somesing."

"I, uh, right!" Louise perked up, drawing her wand and rushing forwards to face the giant golem.

The construct was currently standing still as its creator, still atop its shoulder, glanced around in worry. He was obviously afraid that the noise of the golem's hand smashing into the ground would have alerted the guards, but so far no one had shown up yet.

Louise bristled at the fact that the mage obviously didn't think too much about both their capabilities, since he was confident enough to all but turn his back on them while he surveyed the area. The pink haired girl growled and made a vow to make him regret doing so. She quickly aimed her wand and began the incantation. With the words and motions finished, she let lose her power and shouted, "Fireball!"

The enemy mage cringed upon hearing the shout, whipping up his wand to prepare some sort of defense. But to his amusement, there was no fireball, only a slight puff of smoke that splattered against his golem's shoulder. "Oh my. That didn't look like a fireball to me, little girl," the mage laughed.

Suddenly, there was an gigantic explosion behind him, the force of the concussive blast so powerful that he almost fell to his knees. Looking back, the mage gasped and saw that the once pristine stone wall of the Academy tower, the one that not even the full might of his golem could hammer through, had been ruptured. Numerous cracks and fissures marred its once clean surface, and he could sense that the powerful protections spells around the vault were gone as well. "So," he whispered in amazement, "this is the power of a void mage..."

Rip's ear twitched upon hearing that, and she filed away the information for later. Right now though, she had a golem to destroy. Finally finishing with reloading, the vampire raised her musket and aimed it towards the gigantic stone monstrosity. Before she could pull the trigger though, the golem slammed its right fist into the tower, directly where Louise's mis-aimed blast had hit. The weakened structure shattered under the blow, and soon she saw the mage leap onto the golem's arm before using it as a bridge to enter the hole.

The vampire snarled and fired, her bullet searing through the air towards its target. It slammed into the golem's torso, rupturing the rock before exiting the other side. It zipped about the gigantic construct, piercing its stone shell numerous times. The golem, possessing limited intelligence, realized that it was being attacked and backed away from the hole its creator had escaped into. It turned around and attempted to swat at the immensely fast projectile that was continuing to assault it. Unfortunately for the golem, Rip's bullet proved too fast, as it penetrated into the stone beast over and over, the impacts causing cracks and ruptures to appear all over its body.

"Yes!" Louise cried as she leapt up and down with joy. "You're doing it! You're beating it!"

Rip, however, was very concerned. Despite the fact that she had perforated the golem repeatedly, perhaps scoring several dozen direct hits, the thing still would not go down. To her surprise and immediate distress, her ultimate attack, which had taken down tanks and planes and entire batallions of enemy infantry in the past, was all but useless against the golem. Tanks, jets, and other vehicles had internal components and mechanisms that could be damaged to disable and destroy them; soldiers had internal organs to rupture. The golem, on the other hand, had no viscerous structure whatsoever. It was just a big piece of animated dirt and rock; attacking it with her bullet was like shooting at the ground hoping to sink an island. Couple this with the construct's massive size, and she was doing just that. No matter how many times she hit the damn thing, it would not go down.

This was also the moment that Rip found a major drawback to the familiar rune's augmentation. While the runes had increased her ability to manipulate the bullet, allowing it to strike harder and move faster, the increased force of each impact also corroded her projectiles much more quickly. She could already feel the small lead ball breaking apart after each successful piercing of the golem's thick hide. It was whittling away much faster now than it had before, when the power and speed of each impact had been half of what it currently was.

Rip cursed when her musket ball finally splintered into nothing. The golem, though marked with what looked to be hundreds of tiny holes and craters, still remained standing.

"H-hey, Rip," Louise said when she noticed that despite her familiar's devastating attack, the golem was still in one piece. "Um, are you gonna kill this thing any time soon?"

"I'm trying..." Before the vampire could finish her sentence, she spotted the mage exiting from the tower's hole and leaping back atop the golem.

"Thank you so much for your assistance!" Their mysterious enemy taunted. He held up an ornate looking wooden box that Rip guessed was taken from inside the tower. "I could not have stolen the Staff of Destruction without you!"

"What?" Louise glared at the figure. "We didn't help you willingly, damn it!"

"Doesn't matter to me whether you did or not, I still win." The mage waved his wand, and the golem attacked once more. This time it focused its attention fully on Rip as she seemed the more dangerous foe. It reared its right arm back high above itself before lashing down with an underarm swat.

The runes on the vampire's left hand flared brightly as she attempted to leap back, but her motion was cut short when she felt two strong grips catch her legs. She was swiftly pulled back to the ground and upon looking down, she saw that two stone hands had erupted from the earth. Each held her leg in a vice-like grip, and no matter how hard she pulled they refused to yield. She flicked her eyes back up to the mage and saw his wand pointed at the earth; what she had thought was a simple order to the golem to attack had actually been a spell being cast.

The impact of the golem's fist hurt. It hurt like hell. Rip thought she might have heard Louise crying out her name in alarm, but she wasn't quite sure. Her ears were ringing from the impact, and her vision blackened for a few distressing seconds. She also felt several bones cracking, mostly along the left arm she had held up to shield herself. The blow had been so powerful that the force had been enough to tear her away from the grip of the stone hands grasping her feet, and she felt herself fly high into the air before slamming back down onto the grassy soil. Hitting the ground caused her to let go of her musket, which flew out of her fingers to clatter to the earth about ten feet away. She felt the runes cease their glow and her body became wracked with tremendous pain.

"Rip!" Louise called out again, eyes wide with fear and concern. To her amazement though, the dark haired woman sat up, looking absolutely furious and obviously in a lot of pain. She was holding her upper body aloft with a shaky right arm while she her left was tucked in close to her body. A thin stream of blood leaked out of small cut on the woman's forehead, which dripped down off a thin eyebrow to stain the fabric of her dark jacket. The ever-present spectacles that her familiar always wore were nowhere to be seen; Louise was startled to notice that her familiar looked much less intimidating without them. All in all it could have been much worse, and she was glad that Rip's familiar runes were active to protect her body.

"Louise," her familiar gasped, still trying to get up. "... r-run!"

The golem had begun to move forwards, walking in slow plodding steps towards the vampire. It was obvious that the mage intended to finish the injured woman off.

"Leave her alone!" Louise shouted. She stepped forwards, holding her wand out and began chanting. Once the appropriate runic words were called, she lashed out with her focus and shouted, "Fireball!"

A small puff of smoke and sound rapped against the golem's side, but it hardly made a dent. Louise chanted again, this time more desperately, and once more another small explosion hit the golem. None of it had done any damage though.

"What's the matter, little girl?" The mage taunted. "Where's the big explosion that you did before? Don't tell me you're tired already?"

"Fireball!" Louise shouted in panic as the golem neared Rip's prone position, and again another small blast appeared that did absolutely nothing to the giant construct.

The golem stomped up to the vampire, who had managed to pull herself up onto her knees. The dark haired woman examined the giant as it loomed over her, giving it a fierce, cold glower. The golem did not seem affected as it raised its left leg, intending on squishing her like a bug.

"No! Stop! Don't!" Louise shouted out desperately. She looked up at the enemy mage and sent him a pleading look. "Please! Please stop! Don't... don't kill my friend! Please!" She tossed her wand down onto the ground as tears fell from her eyes. She felt horribly useless, and now her familiar might die. She truly was a Zero.

_I'm so pathetic!_ She mentally cursed and berated at herself. _Please, God. Don't let Rip die because of me! _

The golem remained still, its massive foot held over the vampire's still form. The mage appeared to be genuinely mulling over Louise's entreaty, as he stood silently atop his creation looking down at the weeping girl. Finally, after a few seconds of deliberation, he shook his head. "Sorry," was his simple answer before the golem suddenly began to step down.

Its forward movement was stopped when from the air a loud roar was heard, quickly followed by a gust of ice that hit the golem in its chest. The construct was blown back by the force of the cold blast, its left leg, the one that was only a few moments ago about to crush Rip into a pancake, slammed down behind it in order to keep its balance and not topple over. The mage ducked for cover when a large blue dragon dove from overhead, its blue-haired rider releasing another ice spell which covered the golem's right arm in frost.

"Tabitha!" Louise cried out in surprise when she saw the dragon fly in to their rescue.

Tabitha, riding upon Sylphid's back, turned the dragon in a graceful arc and readied herself for another attack. Upon her head was a small brass crown, one that was presented to her by the Princess after she had triumphed at the Evaluation Fair. All had been going well during the event when proceedings were interrupted by a sudden and loud explosion coming from the other side of the Academy. The guards sprung to action, surrounding the Princess in a cocoon of armored forms while the instructors tried to calm the students and guests. It was complete pandemonium as more explosions were heard, and Tabitha took to the air to see if she could help. Thankfully, she had arrived just in time, as she had managed to distract the golem and the mage controlling it before they could do any more harm to Louise and her strange familiar. Unfortunately, she was at a loss as to how to stop the golem itself. She had never seen such a large construct, and had no plan on how to defeat it.

As the dragon swooped and dove at the golem overhead, Rip watched. The mage was completely distracted by the quiet girl and now was the time to act. She saw her musket, lying out of reach. It would take too long to go for the weapon and then reload; she couldn't risk the mage seeing her. No, she had to attack now and she would have to do so without a weapon.

Rip smiled, her teeth growing sharp. Thankfully, even bare-handed, she was still quite dangerous.

The vampire waited until Tabitha had completed another dive, spraying the back of the golem with ice. The giant stomped about, swinging at the pesky dragon with its long arms, but failed to hit the flying lizard. When its left arm dropped down during one of its swings, Rip acted. She exploded into motion, launching herself forward towards the golem, then leaping up onto its arm. Louise almost shrieked in alarm when she saw her familiar suddenly move so fast, since a moment ago the dark haired woman looked half dead.

Rip, with a speed that was inhuman, scrambled up the golem's rocky arm. Even without the power of the familiar runes, she still moved faster than any regular human being could. The mage, who had been busy trying to dodge Tabitha's attacks, saw something moving at the corner of his eye. He whirled to face the shadow and saw that somehow the injured woman from before had managed to clamber up onto the golem's shoulder. With a snarl and flash of razor sharp teeth, the woman leapt towards him.

The vampire saw its prey, and she went for him. Whatever spell he was using to hide from her sixth sense seemed to work on her other senses as well, since she could not smell him nor could she hear his heart beating. Regardless, the vampire was most definitely sure that his heart was beating pretty damn fast as she leapt forwards, arms held open and jaw wide, filled with jagged teeth ready to snap. She was so close she could almost taste his blood, so close she could almost see his eyes widened in fear.

In a final, desperate move, the mage waved his wand and screamed a quick incantation. There was a sudden explosion of dirt as a large sharp shard of rock erupted from the golem's stone skin. It flew forwards and pierced into Rip's flesh, impaling her right in the side of the neck. The vampire's surprised eyes widened as blood spurted from the wound. This time she did hear Louise's cry. The force of the impact pushed her off the golem, and Rip's body fell over a hundred feet before coming to an abrupt stop upon the hard earth. A cloud of dust exploded up from where she landed, covering her form before finally dissipating to reveal her still, unmoving body.

"No!" Louise had shrieked, calling out in horror when she watched her familiar fall. "No!" She had cried out again when she saw and heard the loud thud when the dark haired woman crashed into the earth. "No!" She yelled once more when she saw a large pool of blood begin to flow around her still body. "NO!"

The pink haired girl stood stock still, completely in shock at seeing her seemingly invincible familiar murdered before her eyes. As the blood collecting around Rip's body grew larger, Louise heard laughter coming from above. She turned her now furious eyes to the mage standing atop the golem, the one who had just killed her friend and then had the gall to start laughing about it! If she were of a clearer mind, she would have realized that the mage was not laughing out of spite or amusement, but out of relief. It was the relief of meeting death face to face and suddenly escaping it.

But now it didn't matter to her. Her friend... her familiar, had just been killed. Killed! Murdered in cold blood!

"You bastard!" Louise cried out. The mage stopped his laughter and glanced down. Louise was determined not to give the piece of filth a chance to defend himself. He didn't deserve it. She quickly ducked down and grabbed her wand, then pointed it up accusingly at the mage. "I swear to God and Brimir Himself! You will die!" She then began chanting, going over each word swiftly but efficiently. Afterwards, she pushed every ounce of willpower she had into the spell and lashed out with her wand, focusing all the anger and grief and pain she was feeling and sending it out through her fingertips and up at the vile, evil, cruel bastard who had murdered Rip.

"FIREBALL!" She shouted.

And then everything exploded.

0

Rip's eyes flickered open, flinching slightly at both the bright sun and the thick dust floating about in the air. She coughed loudly, expelling bits of stone and blood out of her mouth. She gingerly lifted her battered torso off the ground and somehow managed to ease herself onto her hands and knees. Her entire body felt sore, and there was an especially vicious pain in her neck. She reached up and found that there was still a piece of rock imbedded in the flesh. Gritting her teeth she pulled, whimpering in pain when the sharp shard of stone was eventually pulled free. The vampire gasped in both agony and relief, as she could now breath with the obstruction to her windpipe gone. She hacked and coughed for a few more moments, expelling the dry and clotted blood that was in her throat onto the grass below her. She felt the wound in her neck begin to stitch closed, though it wouldn't be fully healed for at least a few more hours.

The vampire looked around, but the entire courtyard seemed to be filled with smoke. She waved her hand in front of her to try to move the heavy soot, but it was no use. It hung in the air like a white curtain, preventing her from seeing anything.

"Scheisse," she muttered. Damn, her body hurt. She attempted to stand, but then her sides convulsed in pure agony and she fell back to her knees. "Z-zat hurt..."

Rip grumbled and began crawling forwards. She could already hear several voices approaching, most likely the teaching staff as they came to investigate. Where the hell had they been? One would think that during an emergency, the teachers would have been first on the scene. Incompetent idiots. She was about to call out for help when her fingers fell upon the familiar sensation of warm wood and polished brass. In her blind scrabble, it seemed that she had made her way to her jezail. Upon grasping the weapon, she felt the runes imbedded in her left hand flare up, and suddenly all her aches and pains vanished.

Rip Van Winkle stood up, amazed once more at the power of the runes. Although she felt a slight ache in her joints, she could feel none of the debilitating pain that had struck her just mere seconds ago. She reached up to her neck, hoping that the gaping wound caused by the rock shard had healed, but sadly her gloved fingers still felt the torn flesh. Unfortunately, it seemed that despite augmenting her other vampiric powers, the runes did nothing to increase her healing factor. That still looked to be the same as it always was.

She was brought out of her thoughts by the sound of wings overhead. She lowered her head and lifted a hand to protect her eyes when Sylphid swooped down and began to blow away the smoke and soot with her wings. Eventually, the area was free of the dust, and Rip looked around to survey the devastation.

And what devastation it was. The golem, the thing that had given her so much trouble, was now nothing but a thirty foot mound of dirt and rock that covered the center of the courtyard. All along the once pristine lawn were chunks of cracked stone and clumps of earth, more remnants of the once mighty golem. Numerous parts of the Academy's walls were also stained with dirt, and it looked like all the windows on this side of the school had been blown in. Broken glass was everywhere.

Sylphid eventually landed next to the giant pile of once-golem, and from her back leaped the tiny form of Tabitha. She landed in a soft crouch, then began walking towards Rip. The young girl's eyes scanned the Vampire's form swiftly before they stopped at the bloody mar at her neck. "Hurt," she said simply.

The vampire gave her a shrug. "I've had vorse." Rip was looking around the courtyard, trying to find any sign of Louise. Eventually, her sharp eyes focused on a small tuft of pink that was buried under a large mound of dirt.

"Dead," Tabitha said, the eyes behind her glasses accusatory.

Rip almost let out a sob of grief as her heart thumped heavy. Louise, dead? But after perceiving the still form with vampiric senses she was able to discern that the girl still had a heartbeat. She quickly realized that Tabitha had meant _her._ As in, Rip should have been dead. Any human, mage or commoner, should have died after suffering such grievous wounds. Yet here she was, alive and well.

The vampire's eyes snapped towards the blue haired girl's, the blue orbs cold and almost glowing with menace. Tabitha's own remained unmoved, meeting Rip's icy glare with one of her own. Both women continued to scowl at each other, one silently accusing while the other silently threatened. Eventually, it was Rip who broke her gaze first, as she focused her attention on Louise. She brushed past the small girl and headed towards her summoner. She would take care of Tabitha later.

Right now she had to make sure that Louise was alright.

Rip dropped to her knees next to the pink haired girl's unconscious form. The vampire was incredibly relieved to see that the teenager was no worse for wear. So much so that she let a relieved laugh erupt from her throat. This, of course, caused her to cringe slightly due to her recent injury. "Ouch."

She began brushing off the small pile of dirt that had fallen on her master, and was happy to see that aside from a dirty uniform Louise appeared uninjured. She stroked some pink hair away from the girl's face and gave her a tender smile. "I don't know vhat you did, little master, but you truly did a number on zat monster. Good job." Rip looked up from the girl and began to scan the area, both with her mind as well as her eyes. Unsurprisingly, she could not sense the enemy mage anywhere. Either he had escaped, or he was dead, though she was pretty sure she would have smelled his blood by now if he were. It didn't really matter though, her first concern was Louise.

Various members of the Academy staff had chosen that moment to come trundling in. They were composed of instructors as well as some water mages from the infirmary. Rip quickly waved one of the healers over to her, and the slightly portly woman in white robes rushed up.

"Oh my, you're hurt!" The healer gasped upon seeing the large wound in her neck. "Please, let me-"

Before the mage could cast anything, Rip waved her off. "Look, I'm fine. Help my master!" She shoved the woman towards the prone form of Louise.

"But..."

"Now," the vampire told her, voice tight and brokering no argument.

The woman flinched, but nodded and began checking on the second year student. Rip hovered over her, trying not to worry. All the while the teachers began to putter about, trying to investigate and figure out just what exactly happened. As all this chaos was occurring in the background, Rip felt Tabitha's eyes continue to bore into her. It was unnerving, and slightly annoying. Despite wanting to turn around and bite the small girl's face off, the vampire showed remarkable restraint and ignored her.

"She'll be fine," the water mage pronounced after examining Louise. Rip let out a relieved sigh. "She's just burned out from using too much willpower. She should wake up in a few hours."

"Good," Rip said. She suddenly sensed Professor Colbert and the Headmaster approaching, and thought that it would be wise to not be there in her current state. "Take care of her, vill you? Make sure she's safe," the vampire told the healer before standing up.

"Wait!" the woman called out. "What about you?"

Rip ignored the healer as she hustled herself away. She was quickly moving in the direction opposite of where she sensed Colbert and Osmond were approaching from. The two would probably wish to know what had exactly happened and frankly she wasn't in the mood to answer questions right now. She also could not let them examine her, as doing so would reveal the various changes the Doktor had inflicted upon her body, the ones that made her less (or more) than human. She also needed to get indoors and away from the sun, since the bright light was inhibiting her healing. After a few hours of absolute darkness, she would be completely healed. The process would go faster if she fed as well, but she couldn't risk it. Tabitha, that annoyingly competent girl, already suspected something. She couldn't afford to make a mistake at this point.

She quickly found an entrance into the Academy building that was free of people, and promptly fled inside. Rip made her way through the deserted halls, down into the sub basement, heading towards her makeshift room. As the comforting shadows engulfed her injured body, she let out a frustrated sigh.

"Stupid," she spat, utterly disgusted with herself. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID!"

She had been stupid, and careless. She had foolishly let the peace and quiet of this school lull her into a false sense of security. She had allowed herself to let down her guard, and it had almost cost her her life. And Louise's life.

Foolish. Stupid. Unforgivable. The Major would have been so disappointed.

Well, her foolishness ends now. Rip frowned, then flicked back her long hair. "I am First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle. Obersturmfuhrer of ze Vaffen SS. Officer of Millennium. Member of ze Verewolf Division." She reached up and gripped the silver swastika pendent hanging around her neck. "I vill not forget that again. Zis I swear."

She scowled as she continued to walk into the darkness. She swore again to never be caught unprepared. Ever. She swore to gain vengeance upon the enemy that had attacked her today. She swore to wipe out any fool who dared stand in her way.

The vampire suddenly grinned, her fangs shining brightly in the shadows.

"I vill survive zis, then make it back home to fight ze British dogs and all who stand against us." Yes, that sounded like a damn good plan.

But first, she needed one of her pills. It had been one hell of a day.


	11. Chapter 11: The Healing of Injuries

**XI. The Healing of Injuries**

"By the Founder, what a mess," Osmond sighed unhappily as he looked over the devastation before him. He was staring out of the rather sizable hole in the wall of the Academy's vault and down onto the garden below, watching numerous officials and staff members run around attempting to maintain some form of order.

What was once a pristine and beautifully tended courtyard in the most prestigious institution for magical learning in the world now looked like a filthy rock quarry. Not only was there a gigantic mound of dirt in the center of the destroyed lawn, but the structure of the Academy building itself had become marred by numerous cracks and impact points caused when the golem exploded. Its former ivory walls were now stained brown from the damage. All the windows facing into the courtyard also had to be repaired, and the rooms connected to them cleared of debris. The school's cleaning staff had been run ragged over the course of the past six hours, attempting to clean the mess as best as they could through mundane means. Many of the professors helped by clearing out the heavier wreckage using magic. The students had been confined to their dorm rooms for their safety while the cleanup and investigation was underway.

"Lord Osmond!" The Headmaster turned around and saw Professor Colbert walking through the ruined vault towards him. The man had managed to catch a few hours of sleep last night, and thus today he was not looking as ragged as he had during the past few weeks. He was still stubbornly on the trail of Siesta's killer, and admitted to making some remarkable strides. For example, he had discovered that the vampire had more than likely left the Academy grounds, as there was news from the capital that two bodies had been found in a similar state to that of the poor maid's. Colbert had planned on heading out to investigate further after the Evaluation Fair had concluded, but once again it seemed that events conspired against him. He had to cancel his plans since Osmond required his assistance to help with the current crisis.

"Yes, Jean?" The old man asked as Colbert joined him to look upon the devastated courtyard below.

"All the students have been accounted for, as well as the staff and faculty," he told him. "Except for Marceu the head chef and Ms. Longueville, who are both on paid leave, everyone who lives and works within the Academy has been confirmed safe. The captain of Princess Henrietta's guards assures me that all of his men are accounted for as well, so I am happy to report that there were no casualties during the incident. Well, aside for Ms. Valliere, of course."

Osmond nodded. "Yes. I am glad to hear it. This incident, as bad as it was, could have been much worse. I thank God that there was no loss of life."

"Yes." Colbert sighed, then allowed himself to soak in the destruction in front of his eyes. "I am still amazed that a commoner was able to take on a rock golem of that size. Truly, the power of the Gandalfr is as amazing as the legends claim."

"That's where you are wrong, old friend," Osmond stated. "According to Ms. Tabitha's account, it was Ms. Valliere who defeated the golem."

"What?" Colbert looked shocked. "B-but that can't be. She is incapable of casting even the simplest of spells..."

"Be that as it may, remember what she is, Jean," Osmond explained. "She summoned one of the Founder's legendary familiars. Logically, this means that she wields Brimir's element: the Void. We shouldn't be surprised that the young lady is able to wield such power."

The professor frowned. "You're right. None of us know just what a void caster is capable of. It has been over six thousand years since the last Void Mage was seen. What's more... Ms. Valliere is untrained! Can you imagine the power she will hold if she were to fully realize her potential?"

The Headmaster nodded. "Quite a frightening thought indeed. This is why we must keep quiet about Ms. Valliere's abilities. There are many who will fear her and try to do her harm, as well as those who would covet her power and seek to use her as a weapon." The old man frowned. He looked up at his younger colleague and decided to change the subject. "Well, enough of that. What do we know of the thief?"

Colbert looked away from the hole in the vault's wall, then headed back into the storage area. The Headmaster followed until they reached the section where the Staff of Destruction had been stocked. Above the empty shelf where the item had lain, carved into the stone wall in neat, cursive handwriting, was a message.

_The Staff of Destruction _

_is in more capable hands. _

_Let the Nobility of Halkeginia despair! _

_For Foquet is among you!_

_P.S. Go to hell you disgusting old_

_fossil Osmond!_

_OXOXOX~ Foquet_

Old Osmond's eye twitched upon reading the last part of the note. "My my, this Foquet is quite the cheeky fellow! What do we know of him?"

Colbert sighed. "Not much, I'm afraid. Real name, age, place of birth, even gender is unknown. His aliases are Foquet the Sculptor, Foquet the Crumbling Dirt, and Foquet the Dark Jewel. He, or she, has been notable for stealing from some of the most well guarded estates on the continent, and has numerous bounties on his head in Gallia, Romalia, and Germania. This is the first time we're aware of, though, that he has attempted such a high profile theft."

"Hmm," Osmond began rubbing his beard. "We need to get more information. Jean, could you please inform me when Ms. Valliere wakes up? We will need to hear her account of the events in order to plan our next move."

"Sir?" Colbert asked, confused. "What do you mean? I thought the palace had taken over investigation of this matter."

"Bah!" The Headmaster sneered. "Those fools will merely make a mess of this, and most likely sweep it under the rug to avoid scandal. Or worse, they'll try to pin it on a scapegoat. No, this theft shines a bad light upon out prestigious institution. This thief has made fools of us all. If we are to uphold the honor of this Academy, then we must apprehend Foquet ourselves."

"Yes, of course. You're right." Colbert smiled. It was moments like these that reminded him of just why the old man before him was held in such high regard. Despite his numerous... eccentricities, Osmond was definitely a very sharp and capable leader.

"Where is Miss Valliere now?" the Headmaster asked.

"Oh, she is in her dorm room recuperating," Colbert said. "Princess Henrietta is with her."

"Oh?"

"Yes," the Professor smiled. "Apparently Louise is an old childhood friend of Her Majesty's."

"Really?" Osmond's lips twisted up into a vulgar grin. "Are you sure they're just friends? Because young, healthy women of their age are known to... _experiment_ with each other during times of great stress..."

"L-Lord Osmond! Please!" Colbert choked out in a scandalized tone. Damn it, why did the old man always say such horribly perverse things just when he started to admire him a bit?

"Ho ho ho ho ho," laughed the Headmaster as he rubbed his beard, thoughts of sapphic delights dancing in his head.

0

Foquet the Crumbling Dirt entered her room at the Academy. The thief frowned at the sight of the simple quarters; hours ago she was sure she would not ever see it again. Unfortunately, events had forced her to change her plans.

She had returned to the school dressed as her alter ego, Ms. Longueville, and told the administrators that upon hearing word of the attack, she decided to cut her leave short. She offered her full support at such a trying time, and of course the old fool of a Headmaster bought her lie easily. He then embraced her, his hands wandering to her posterior, but Foquet let him get away with it. She would have aggravated her injuries if she attempted to mutilate him.

As soon as the lock to the door was bolted, Foquet all but collapsed against the wooden portal. She let out all the pain and exhaustion that she had been hiding since she entered the front doors, and the relief almost caused her to black out.

Her hand clutched at her left side, feeling the bandages underneath her robes. Her cursory evaluation after the battle had revealed three broken ribs as well as a bad laceration in her left leg. All in all, it wasn't too bad. A lesser mage would have probably died in such a massive explosion. The thief had managed to bandage her injuries to the best of her abilities, but she knew mundane first aid was no match for a water mage's healing magic, but that was a luxury she could not afford at the moment. She would have to take it easy or risk aggravating her wounds.

"Damn that girl," the thief cursed, thinking of the pink haired student who had almost killed her. Foquet had never in her life seen a magic blast so powerful; was that the power of the Void?

The thief shook her head, vowing not to underestimate Louise Valliere again. She limped towards her bed and gingerly sat upon its soft surface, flinching slightly when her broken ribs protested. She sat silently for a moment, trying to ignore the aching of her body while she plotted her next move.

Foquet sneered. Planning? Why was she bothering to plan _again_? So far, all of her plots and machinations had been ruined at every point, and she had almost lost her life because of several unforeseen events.

It all started to go wrong in the beginning, when she had arrived outside the Academy vault's door. It had been the perfect time to strike; with Princess Henrietta at the Evaluation Fair, the majority of the school's woeful number of guards were at teh event to protect her. All of the students and faculty were also in attendance, so the wing of the building was completely empty. Unfortunately, she found that the magical barrier for the doors had been much too strong for her to damage. She went outside and attempted to get through the vault's outer wall using her golem's brute strength, but the wards surrounding the building proved to be just as impossible to break.

Her bad luck continued when who would just happen to stumble along other than the Void Mage and her familiar, the Gandalfr! Foquet had lucked out for a bit when the Valliere girl used her power to shatter the wards, thus allowing her to enter the vault and claim the Staff of Destruction. But her good fortune didn't last as moments later, that blue haired little brat with the dragon arrived to harrass her and her golem. While this was going on, the Gandalfr attacks and almost kills her, revealing itself as something other than human.

What the hell was that thing, anyway? Foquet shivered upon remembering its rows of vicious, knife-like fangs in its open maw and the hungry stare of its blue, glowing eyes. The creature couldn't have been a vampire, since it had been broad daylight when they had fought. A demon, then? Perhaps a chimera created by a rogue Gallian mage?

Bah, it didn't matter. As frightening as that creature had been, it was easily dealt with. Whatever it was, it seemed that a spear of enchanted earth was good enough to kill it. Foquet had been so distracted with her relief at surviving the monster that she had failed to notice the Valliere girl until it was too late. Thankfully she had been fast enough to surround herself with a thick stone shield before the girl's explosion hit.

After digging herself out of a pile of rock and dirt, she saw the devastation wrought by the unknown spell. Her mighty golem had been reduced to a giant heap of earth. With her willpower almost depleted and knowing that she was out of time, Foquet ran. She used the smoke as cover and sank herself into the earth, making a tunnel under the Academy's walls to make her escape. She emerged some meters away within the treeline outside the school grounds, wherein she ran like hell with the Staff of Destruction in tow. She didn't stop running until she was halfway to Tristania, which was when the adrenaline wore off. The pain then hit, and she quickly realized just how injured she had been.

The thief took a moment, a moment too long in her opinion, to bandage her wounds. She then planned on heading off to La Rochelle, as her plan called for leaving the country by airship. Before she set off though, Foquet opened the box to check the Staff. The legendary item was just as strange as she had heard; it looked more like a short green metal tube than a proper staff. In fact, it was quite heavy and she wondered how anyone could use such an unwieldy thing for a focus. It was then that she attempted to use it in order to gain a sense of just how powerful the item really was. But try as she might, the damn thing refused to work. She used every incantation she knew, from simple levitation to the most powerful of her combat spells, but nothing happened. There was no effect.

Foquet cursed like a sailor. She _knew_ that she had the Staff of Destruction; it matched every description she had heard and was housed in the ornate case that had held it. She deduced that there must be some type of ritual, or perhaps a magical incantation that needed to be spoken in order to activate the Staff's destructive abilities. Whatever it was, Foquet didn't have a clue. If she couldn't figure out how to activate the relic, then the Staff was all but useless. Months of work, her entire life savings, down the drain.

The thief refused to leave it at that! Foquet quickly came up with a plan, one that involved heading back to the Academy in her Longueville disguise. She would then string along the faculty, and lead them into a trap which would force them to reveal how to activate the Staff. It was a longshot, but she was desperate. She had put all the funds she had accumulated, all the favors she had earned over the years, into getting a position as Osmond's secretary without anyone becoming suspicious. If she could not discover the Staff of Destruction's secret, then all her sacrifice would have been in vain. It wasn't like she could sell the thing, either. By now news of the Staff's theft would have spread across the country. Soon, every kingdom in Halkeginia would know that Foquet the Crumbling Dirt had stolen the Staff of Destruction. The relic would be too infamous of a commodity for any rich collectors to risk buying.

No, she didn't steal the Staff to sell it, anyway. The Staff, this powerful and legendary instrument, was hers to use. It would be the item she needed to take back her nobility. With it, she could regain her title, get back her family's name. With such power, anything was possible. Even impossible dreams.

Matilda de Saxe-Gotha lay down, cringing as a lance of pain shot up from her side. She smiled bitterly. So close. She was so close to her goals. She could not give up now.

"Please, God," she prayed. "Let this work out. I don't want to be Foquet anymore."

With that, Matilda closed her eyes and tried to go to sleep. For whatever reason, she kept on seeing Louise Valliere's face, her pink eyes dripping with tears, as she begged her not to kill her familiar.

0

Louise groaned as she fought through the black, formless cloud of unconsciousness. Through the numbness she struggled, feeling as if her entire body was stuck at the bottom of a large pool of tar. Waking was like trying to swim through the thick, murky goo, but eventually her mind managed to push itself through the numb blackness and her eyes fluttered open. She flinched slightly as the morning light hit her eyes, the brightness stinging her still dilated irises.

"Louise Francoise!" she heard a voice call out, its tone warm with the sound of worry. "You're awake!"

She rubbed at her eyes with shaking fingers. Louise opened her mouth and attempted to say something, but no words came out. Instead she let out a dry gasp, followed by a small cough. Her mouth felt parched, her tongue feeling baked like the desert sands of the Sahara.

"Here," the voice said again shortly before she felt a soft hand cupping the back of her head. The hand gently tilted her face up and she felt the smooth rim of a glass pressed against her lips followed by the cool taste of water. Louise gulped the liquid down eagerly. As her thirst became quenched, the fog clouding her mind began to clear.

After drinking, she opened her eyes once more; this time the morning light did not pain her as much, and she was able to take stock of her surroundings. She found the familiar scene of her dorm room, and she was laying upon the comforting softness of her four poster bed. Seated next to her was Princess Henrietta, who gave her a warm smile.

"Y-Your Majesty!" Louise attempted to sit up, but the Princess placed her hands onto her thin shoulders to prevent her from moving.

"Come now, Louise Francoise, don't strain yourself." Henrietta gently pushed her back until she was lying comfortably upon her pillow once more. "And didn't I tell you to not to be so formal when we are alone? We are childhood friends, after all."

"Um, right. Of course." Louise smiled. The night before the fair, the Princess had visited her dorm alone and in secret, whereupon she expressed her desire to renew the friendship that the two of them had shared when they were children. Louise, of course, accepted with much enthusiasm. Sadly, Henrietta, or Anne as Louise had known her, had been the only friend she had ever had growing up, aside from her older sister Cattleya. Not only did her position as one of the Duke Valliere's children prevent her from having much interaction with other children, but once she began school none of the other students wanted anything to do with her due to her complete lack of magical talent. She had been so terribly lonely; in fact, it wasn't until she had summoned her familiar that she had truly had anyone to talk with.

Thinking about Rip brought Louise back to the present. Her eyes began to mist as she remembered her familiar's last few moments. She remembered seeing the blood pool around the dark haired woman's still, unmoving body after the enemy mage had cruelly speared her in the throat with a shard of rock. "Rip..."

"Louise, what ever is the matter?" Henrietta asked, concern in her voice.

"Th-that mage with the golem... What happened?" The pink haired girl looked up into the eyes of her friend. She banished the tears that threatened to spill from the memory of Rip's death. She could cry later. Right now, she needed to know if she had managed to at least avenge her familiar's murder.

"Oh, you don't remember? It truly was a spectacular explosion, Louise." Henrietta smiled. "From what I heard, you completely destroyed that golem." The bed-ridden student let out a small sigh of relief. "As to its creator, well, I'm afraid he had escaped. We could not find his body, so it is most likely that Foquet is still out there."

Louise bit the inside of her cheek as anger began to build within her. So she had _failed._ Again. Even after trying her hardest, she didn't even have the skill to avenge her fallen familiar. How typical of her. "Foquet? Is that the murderer's name?"

Princess Henrietta looked confused. "Murderer?"

"Yes!" Louise snapped. "That bastard killed Rip! He murdered her in cold blood, right in front of me!"

"Rip? You mean your familiar?" asked the Princess.

"Yes!" The pink haired girl's hands curled into fists, her mind seeing over and over the moment of her summoned familiar's horrible death. The rock piercing her skin. The spray of blood. The dark haired woman's long fall before slamming into the ground with a loud thud. The red puddle forming around her unmoving form. "I swear, I will avenge her! If it's the last thing I do, I will see justice done!" Louise vowed, voice hard and stern.

The Princess looked upon her old friend's grim expression before bursting out in a sudden fit of mad giggling. Louise gaped at the royal's behavior, her face looking utterly betrayed. "Y-Your Majesty? It... it isn't funny!" She then burst out into tears and covered her face with her hands, weeping in sorrow that her dear old friend could be so cruel. "I know Rip was just a commoner! And a familiar! But... but, she was _my_ familiar, damn it! No, no! She was my _friend!_ She deserved better than to be killed like... like a dog... she... I..."

Suddenly, Louise found herself becoming engulfed in a warm embrace. She stopped her sobbing when she heard Henrietta's comforting voice try to sooth her. "My dear, dear Louise Francoise. Please forgive me for laughing. I swear, it was not my intention to be cold. I just... it's was so..." She took a deep breath, but couldn't help it as she suddenly began to giggle again.

"Anne!" Louise protested and began struggling in the older girl's arms.

"Hush, Louise, it's fine!" said Henrietta. "Your familiar is not dead!"

That got Louise's attention. She pushed Henrietta back so that she could look into her eyes. "What?"

"She's not dead." The Princess smiled. "From what I heard she was injured, but she was never killed. She's completely fine!"

"S-she is?" Tears began to leak once more from the pink haired girl's eyes. This time they were tears of joy and relief, and not of grief.

It was at that moment that the door to her room suddenly slammed open, startling both girls. In walked the subject of their discussion, the not-dead Rip Van Winkle. She looked remarkably healthy (considering that the last time Louise had seen her she looked completely dead) and aside from her clothing looking battered and torn in places, she was personally unscathed. In her right hand was a gigantic tray laden with two plates of eggs, sausages, and bacon along with three bowl of fresh fruit and two glasses of milk; in the other was her ever present musket. Rip did not have her spectacles on, so Louise figured that they were lost during the battle. The dark haired woman looked much younger without them on her freckled face, and her dark blue eyes definitely seemed much more expressive without the round lenses to get in the way.

The familiar also seemed to be in a cheerful mood, as there was a wide, happy smile on her lips. "Guten morgan, Louise! Guten morgan, Princess!" she greeted, her Germanian accented voice matching the cheer on her face. "Since ze two of you did not make it to breakfast, I have raided ze kitchen and forced the chefs at gunpoint to prepare for you a veritable feast. You vere asleep for quite a vile, Louise. It vould do you good to eat and regain your strength." Rip hooked her foot around the leg of a nearby sideboard and pushed, sliding the small table along the floor to stop near the bedside where Princess Henrietta sat. "As for you, Your Highness, please accept zis gift as thanks for vatching over my little master all night." The familiar carefully placed the large and heavy platter of breakfast goodies onto the top of the table; both nobles were impressed, considering that she did it one-handed.

"Oh my! You are most welcome, Ms. Familiar, and thank you." The Princess gave the woman a smile along with a regal nod.

Louise remained silent, simply staring at Rip with her eyes wide. The last time she had seen the older girl was when she was lying still as death by the golem's feet, a sharp shard of stone slicing deep into the flesh of her neck with her blood spilling into the grass and earth below. Now here she was, walking around looking healthy with not a scratch on her! The flesh of the dark haired woman's neck was pristine, the skin smooth and pale without even a scar to show that a grievous wound that had once marred it.

"Wait! Wait! Hold on just a moment!" Louise complained. "H-how are you still alive? Y-you... I saw that mage stab you in the neck! And you fell from so high... and the blood..."

Rip snorted. "Oh, Louise. You should know zat I am made of sterner stuff zan that. Did you really sink that a mere flesh wound or simple fall vould be enough to kill an officer of Millennium? Ha!" She then smiled and bent down, pointing a teasing finger at her. "Oh, vait! I get it now! You vanted me to die, didn't you? I see, I see. If I did get killed, zen you vould be able to summon up a better, more obedient familiar! Zhat's it, isn't it?"

Although the woman was obviously teasing, Louise didn't take it as such. After thinking that Rip was dead and swearing in front of the Princess herself that she would avenge her, the fact that her familiar had the gall to insinuate such a thing! Fury welled up within her, and soon her blood began to boil.

"L-Louise?" Rip asked, straightening herself as she became worried.

Somehow, the pink haired girl managed to grab hold of her wand from somewhere. With a cry of "STUPID FAMILIAR!" she let loose her fury.

An explosion rocked the girl's dormitory, causing numerous students to scream.

0

"Oh, dear God, vhy do I have such a cruel and frightening master?" Rip asked the sky as she and Louise walked down the hallway, heading towards the Headmaster's office. The summons had come a few minutes ago from one of the professors, who requested that Miss Valliere and her familiar meet with the old man as soon as possible. The two of them said their farewells to the Princess after Louise had dressed and Rip was conscious again, and they quickly made their exit leaving the confused young royal to ponder just what exactly it was that she had been witness to.

"Oh shut up, you so deserved it," Louise grumbled, looking over her familiar, who didn't look worse for wear _at all_ despite taking one of her explosions to the face. "I don't know why you're even complaining, you invincible freak. You're not even singed!"

"Like I said earlier, we in Millennium are made of sterner stuff," Rip said with a smile. She had draped her large musket across her shoulders and was walking down the hall with both arms resting lazily on top of it.

Louise rolled her eyes, but then looked pensive as a though struck her. "Hey, Rip. I always wanted to ask, but never got around to doing so. What is Millennium anyway?"

Rip frowned as her mind attempted to think of a clever yet truthful sounding lie. She had been dreading this question for a while and was quite frankly surprised that it had taken Louise this long to ask it. After all, she couldn't really tell her summoner that she worked for an organization composed of bloodthirsty vampires intent on bringing the world into a state of eternal war could she? "Millennium, " she began, "is... a group back in my homeland. Ve are soldiers and scien- er... mages, working to make ze vorld a better place for all."

"Oh," Louise said, looking somewhat disappointed. It was obvious the pink haired girl expected something a bit more grandiose. "So... they're like the Church, then?"

"Vell, yes. Ve have worked with the Church before." Rip bit her tongue to prevent a bout of laughter. It was true, after all. There was no way Millennium could have escaped from post-war Europe if the Vatican hadn't aided them in doing so. It's just too bad that the current Pope wasn't so keen to help them as his predecessors had been.

"Well, good," Louise stated after a long silence. Truth be told, she was somewhat disappointed. Because of her familiar's exotic nature and powerful abilities, she had hoped that the organization she had claimed to be a part of would have been much more impressive. But listening to Rip, it seemed like they were just a bunch of do-gooder mercenaries who lived out in the wilds of Germania.

Louise glanced up at her familiar, noting that for some reason the woman seemed unusually cheery today. Although she hadn't said anything, she had been noticing that Rip had become a bit taciturn as of late. The dark haired woman had tried to hide it, but Louise could tell that something had been bothering her. Then again, before this she had acted quite merry at times, but not to such an extent as she was now. Especially for someone who had almost been killed just a few hours ago. Louise also noticed the large brown stains fouling the collar of Rip's pink shirt, which was most likely dried blood from her previous grisly wound.

"I have decided!" The pink haired girl suddenly stated, her proclamation met by a curious wide-eyed expression from Rip. "Today, after we speak to the Headmaster, we shall head over to city to buy you some new clothes."

"Oh?" The vampire asked. "And vat brought on such generosity?"

"Well, you," Louise poked the woman in the side. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I've ever seen you change clothes since you got here."

"I vash them!" Rip stated in her defense, though her cheeks did turn slightly red in embarrassment.

"It's my fault, really. As a master it is my duty to look after all of my familiar's needs." Louise shook her head, mocking shame in herself. "Well, that ends today! While I'm sure you do well in cleaning your clothing as all peasants do, the fight with that Foquet thief has left your outfit in much need of repair. Since you only have one set, it is my duty as your master to get you more clothing."

Rip rolled her eyes. "Zat really isn't necessary..."

"I insist!" The pink haired girl exclaimed loudly. "As my familiar, your appearance is important as it reflects on me. What would society say if they see that a Valliere continues to let her familiar look like a slob?"

"Slob?" Rip gaped, looking down at her somewhat ragged outfit with worry. Sure, her clothes had seen better days, but they weren't that bad were they?

"Besides, those clothes don't really fit you too well." Louise eyed her familiar's black suit, pink shirt, black tie, white gloves, and dark boots. "No, you'll need an outfit that is a proper fit, otherwise people might think you're a man." Rip opened her mouth to argue, but Louise yammered on. "Aha! We'll get you several dresses, perhaps a few cloaks as well, or maybe some nice summer bonnets..."

"No," stated her familiar. "I told you before, Louise. I am not your doll. If you insist on buying me ze clothes, then I shall be ze vone to choose them."

"Oh, fine," the girl complained, her face puffing up into an annoyed pout. She continued to swear that one day she'd get her familiar into a dress.

Rip smiled, then began humming the tune to _Engleland Lied._ Despite her defeat yesterday at the hands of that Foquet mage, she felt remarkably upbeat. Before going to sleep, she had downed one of Dok's precious pills. And, just like a miracle, the dreams that had plagued her since she had arrived on this God forsaken world had not visited her while she slept. Her mind felt so free and unburdened without the weight of the past constantly crushing at her psyche. Oh, how wonderful it was to have a full day's dreamless sleep. She felt so free without the constant, overbearing reminders of her past sins; she was like a bird let out of its cage. Oh, if only she could fly forever!

_Three pills left._

In fact, she had felt so fantastic after she had awoken that she went on a hunt. It had still been dark out when she got up, fully healed, and very hungry. She had to wait for that irritating Tabitha girl to stop her nightly dragon flights and get to bed before leaving the Academy grounds. She dashed through the night, keeping off the roads to avoid prying eyes, and eventually came to a small farm at the outskirts of the capital city Tristania. There she found a family of three, a father, mother and cute little baby.

She devoured them all.

Rip started with the infant, tearing its body open to feast on its innards, smearing blood all over the once clean crib. Then she moved on to the parents. Without so much as a sound, she bit into the father's neck, who awoke and began a futile struggle, one that didn't last very long since his throat had been torn out. His frantic movements woke the wife, though, and she began screaming as she watched, horrified, as Rip drank from the gaping wound in her husband's still convulsing corpse.

The wife ran, stopping by the crib, intending to pick up her baby before fleeing. But upon seeing the mess of meat and bone that had once been her only child, the mother broke down. She fell upon her knees and wept, which was how Rip found her a few minutes later. The woman looked up and stared into the vampire's eyes with a look of such pain; her eyes spoke volumes, telling Rip that she had taken the only two things that had ever mattered to her, the only two things that she had of value. The woman's eyes told her to do what she wanted, because nothing the vampire could do to her now could ever compare to losing both her husband and baby. Rip gave her a razor sharp smile, then tore into her flesh and drank of her grief. It tasted wonderfully bitter. Like apple cider that had been left to warm on a hot summer day.

_Three pills left._

After having her fill, Rip felt even more wonderfully happy. Because she had eaten both the baby and the father, the vampire was much too full to completely drain the woman. So she decided to get creative, since any artist knows a full belly often gets the creative juices flowing. She found some paintbrushes in the corner of the small farmhouse next to an easel (the mother had obviously been an amateur painter) and quickly went to work. She tore open the woman's chest, then dipped the brushes into the wet gore within. The vampire sang merrily from _Der Freischutz_ as she began to paint swastikas all over the walls of the house. She wasn't really sure why she was doing it, but it felt right. It made her giddy, so she continued to paint. The more swastikas she painted, the happier she felt. She painted small ones, big ones, even a gigantic one right outside the front door. By the time she was done, the entire interior of the house was covered in the red symbols. In the dark, they almost seemed to be moving, like little red bugs crawling all over the walls. The scene made her giggle. It was pretty funny.

Before she left, she made sure that the three corpses inside wouldn't return to life as ghouls. That would be bad because... well, she couldn't really remember why. She just knew it would be. So she grabbed an axe from the barn and chopped the father and mother up into tiny little pieces. She didn't need to chop the baby up since it was already pretty much shredded. Poor baby. He got all eaten up. Who could do such a thing?

_Three pills left._

"I wonder what the old man wants," Louise said aloud, her voice breaking Rip's fond memory of the previous night.

"Hmm?" The vampire looked down at the girl, then shrugged. "It most likely has to do vith ze events of yesterday."

"Oh, yes, you're probably right." Louise sighed. "Hopefully the authorities will be able to catch that foul thief before he strikes again."

"I don't," Rip said.

The pink haired girl's eyes widened. "What? But why? He's a dangerous criminal!"

"Because, little Louise," her familiar tilted her head and gave her a smile, one so feral that it sent shivers up the pink haired girl's spine. "I vant to catch him myself."

_Three pills left._


	12. Chapter 12: Complex Plans

**XII. Complex Plans**

"Ah, Miss Valliere. Thank you so much for coming," the Headmaster greeted as Louise and Rip entered his office.

The room was, at the moment, very crowded. There were numerous mages gathered inside, all of whom wore the blue and purple cloaks that denoted their status as members of the teaching staff. Louise noticed a few of her instructors present, as well as some who taught the more advanced courses provided by the Academy. Professor Colbert, along with the Headmaster's secretary, stood with Osmond at the front of his desk.

Louise couldn't be sure, but she thought that she saw the green haired woman's face pale for a moment when she and her familiar came in. She was puzzled by the strange reaction but quickly forgot about it when she noticed that there were two other students in the office as well: Tabitha, the blue haired dragon rider who aided them in the battle against Foquet yesterday, and Kirche von Zerbst, her hated rival.

Louise stiffly marched up to stand with the two students. She gave Tabitha a nod in greeting, then turned an irritated glare towards Kirche. "Okay, I understand why Tabitha's here since she helped us out yesterday. But why are _you_ here?"

The buxom redhead merely shrugged, giving her shorter classmate a devious grin. "I was bored."

"You Germanian har-"

"Ahem," interrupted Professor Colbert.

Louise gasped, suddenly remembering where she was. She quickly turned her attention back to the teachers, who were all watching her with looks of disapproval.

"Well, let's get this started shall we?" Osmond spoke up, hoping to break the obvious tension between the two female students. "Now then, Miss Valliere. If you could please relate to us just what had occurred during the strange events of yesterday. Miss Tabitha has already given us an account from her perspective, but according to her you and your familiar," he nodded towards the dark haired woman, who had taken to standing behind Louise to silently watch proceedings, "were already at the scene and engaging the thief, Foquet, in combat. Is this true?"

"Yes, sir," Louise answered with a nod. "Rip and I were just leaving the Evaluation Fair when we stumbled upon Foquet and his golem. He tried to kill us, but thankfully my familiar was able to distract him."

"Indeed," The old man rubbed at his beard. "It was quite brave of you both to take on such a powerful foe. Foquet is by no means an ordinary thief. After all, he was able to break the wards protecting the tower vault so easily! Not even a team of Square-level mages could have shattered the barriers around the vault in so quick a time."

Louise's cheeks quickly flushed red, remembering that it had actually been her spell which had accidentally broken the wards. "Ah ha ha, yes..." she muttered lamely.

Rip also realized this, but kept her mouth shut. She remembered the effect her master's badly directed attack had had upon the tower's wall. She also remembered what the thief had muttered to himself, asking if this was the "power of the Void." Interesting.

"And then, I assume that was the point Ms. Tabitha came in on her familiar?" Professor Colbert asked.

"More or less," Louise said. "Rip had attacked the golem with her musket, but it didn't do any good."

"Well, that's not a surprise," spoke up a smug looking professor from the teaching staff. "No matter how flashy her marksmanship may look, a commoner's simple weapon is no match for any mage."

There were murmurs of agreement, and Louise stifled the urge to speak up and defend her familiar. _Rip tried her best! _She wanted to yell. _She almost died trying to stop that thief! Where were all you idiots, you so-called powerful nobles during all this? Hiding under a table? Waiting for the guards to take care of the trouble?_ But the pink-haired girl held her tongue, as these were teachers and talking back to them, no matter how badly she wanted to, would only get her in trouble. So she settled on fuming silently.

Rip, on the other hand, did not bother hiding her ire. _How dare these fools insult my jezail?_ She thought. She quickly gave the man who spoke her coldest sneer, and the noble attempted to ignore it with much difficulty. The vampire wanted nothing more than to bite that smug, superior look off of his face, but doing so would have been quite unwise. So she merely stood still, silently glaring at the teacher, imagining him hanging by his entrails from a tall tree branch while ravens pecked at his eyes.

"As Ms. Tabitha related to us, you were the one who actually managed to destroyed Foquet's golem," Osmond continued, staring straight at Louise and watching her carefully. "Is that true, Ms. Valliere?"

"I... um..." Louise nervously looked away from the old man's hard gaze. "Yes, it is."

"What?" Kirche almost shouted out, her eyes widening as she stared at the short pink haired girl next to her. "Nonsense! Everyone knows Louise the Zero can't cast any spells! She's a magical half-wit."

"Shut up, Zerbst!" Louise turned to the redhead and began screaming in her face. "I did cast a spell, and I DID destroy that stupid golem! If you don't believe me, then believe your friend!" She pointed her thumb back at Tabitha, who continued to remain silent and seemingly uninterested in their shouting match. "She was there, she saw me do it, and you weren't, so shut the hell up!"

Kirche gaped at the shorter girl's outburst, somewhat surprised at the vehement defense of her own abilities. She had never heard Lousie speak with such confidence when it came to her own magical aptitude. The girl almost sounded... proud of herself. Of course, the pinkette often spoke highly of her family, her nation, even her noble status, but Kirche had never heard her show pride in _herself._ It was quite interesting to see and hear.

The redhead gave Louise a pleased smirk before bending down and pinching the shorter girl on the cheek. "Oh my, Tabitha, it looks like our dear little Louise is growing up!"

"Don't touch me, you harridan!" The pink haired girl sputtered as she slapped the taller student's offending hand away.

"Ahem," Osmond interrupted, hoping to get the situation back on the topic of Foquet.

Unfortunately for him, Colbert derailed it further. "I was meaning to ask, Ms. Valliere. What type of spell did you use to destroy Foquet's golem? It sounded mighty loud, and had to be extremely powerful."

"Oh, um, well," Louise scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. "I spoke out the incantation to the Fireball spell, but when I cast it... well, everything just..." She sighed, her face turning red as she finished her sentence in a low whisper. "... exploded."

Kirche broke out into loud peals of laughter after that, to which Louise responded with more screams and loud insults.

"Oh my, that is quite strange," Colbert said, mostly to himself, as he patted his chin in thought.

"As to the Foquet situation," the Headmaster interrupted quite loudly, which caused the two bickering students, as well as the muttering Colbert, to stop and pay attention. "As to Foquet, although the Palace has officially taken over the investigation of this theft, I feel that it is still our duty as nobles to catch the thief ourselves and retrieve the item he has stolen from us. Foquet has made a mockery of this institution, and it is up to us to make things right.

"Now then, Ms. Valliere, Ms. Tabitha. Can you describe Foquet to us?"

Louise opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it when she realized her mind was a total blank. Her eyes squinted slightly as she attempted to recall any details about the mage she had fought, but no matter how hard she tried she could not remember anything about him. "I... I..."

"Can't remember," Tabitha stated, looking somewhat confused herself.

"What?" Colbert asked the two of them. "What about his face? Hair color? Height? Build?" The two students shook their heads. "Not even gender?" The two frowned, but was forced to shake their heads. "How odd. What about you, Miss van Winkle? Did you get a good look at this thief?"

Rip frowned, looking positively disgusted. "Ja, I did. Only I can't recall even ze smallest of details about him. It's quite annoying."

"Hmm," Professor Colbert cast a speculative glance at the Headmaster. "Could Foquet have casted a charm spell to make them forget?"

"Perhaps, or maybe he had an enchantment that would prevent his identity from being discerned." Osmond shrugged. "My, my. This thief has thought of everything."

"Not quite." For the first time since the meeting began, the green haired secretary spoke up. "Earlier this morning, I sent messengers out to all the villages and settlements close to the Academy in order to see if anyone saw Foquet fleeing in their direction. Thankfully, one of my inquiries was answered. Some men in the hamlet of Lorraine to the southeast reported seeing a mysterious cloaked figure entering an abandoned cottage in the woods near the village. They also said that the figure appeared to be injured and carrying a large, ornate box that matched the description of the case which housed the Staff of Destruction."

"Truly? Why this is excellent news!" Colbert stated with a smile. Finally, a break!

"Indeed. Well done, Ms. Longueville," Osborn praised his secretary, his wrinkled face shining with pride. "You truly are a very remarkable and capable secretary. Your work shall not go unrewarded."

"Thank you, Lord Osmond," the woman bowed in thanks.

"Wait," Louise cut in, looking somewhat confused. "Staff of Destruction? Is that what the thief stole from the vaults?"

Old Osmond nodded. "Yes, it was."

"Staff of Destruction, eh? That sounds mighty ominous," Kirche remarked.

"That is because the Staff very well is ominous, Miss von Zerbst." Osmond stroked his beard as he spoke. "The Staff of Destruction is a powerful magical artifact whose origins have baffled scholars for many years. Though its history is a mystery, its destructive power is not in question. I personally saw it in action, many years ago. It completely destroyed an alpha male fire dragon with just one blast."

Kirche flinched, shocked that any focus that could be so powerful actually existed. She had done much research on fire dragons, as she had hoped to summon one for the Springtime Summoning Ritual. Fire dragons were extremely powerful beasts, and alpha males even more so. Even Square class mages had difficulty taking one down, and none that she had ever heard of claimed to do so with just one spell.

"B-but with an artifact that powerful, there's no telling what a villain like Foquet would do!" Louise said, aghast that such a dangerous item could have been stored in her school of all places.

"Indeed," Old Osmond agreed. "Now you see just how much danger we are all in. If Foquet manages to figure out how to use the Staff, which I would assume he hasn't yet since he is still in the area, then there is no telling what sort of mischief he would cause. The thief has already shown that he is fully capable of causing massive amounts of destruction, and that he has no qualms whatsoever with killing to get what he wants." The old man's voice had gotten colder as he spoke, his temper flaring at the thought of such a potent relic in the hands of so dubious an individual. "No, no. We can not let that foul thief get away. Now that we know where he is, we must apprehend Foquet ourselves and return the item he stole. Not only for the name and reputation of the Tristain Academy of Magic, but for the kingdom and perhaps all of Brimiric civilization as well!"

There were many nods of agreement from the teachers, along with a few shouts of hearty encouragement.

"Excellent, glad you all agree!" Osmond smiled. "Now then, who among you will undertake such a dangerous yet honorable task?"

Upon hearing his question, all cheer left the assembled adults and they looked swiftly away..

"Say, Professor Chevreuse," spoke up a reed-thin teacher with a small, bushy mustache. "Weren't you the one who was on duty the day of Foquet's attack?"

"Well, yes," answered the rotund middle aged woman. "But I was only on schedule! There was no need to be on duty since classes were canceled due to the fair! I was at the evaluation, as were you, Professor Gideau!"

"Be that as it may," continued the thin man, "Since you were technically on duty, then it is still your responsibility."

"Now see here!"

"Enough!" The Headmaster shouted. He glared at both the bickering teachers, his ancient eyes flashing in barely contained fury and disgust. "Is this how we nobles act during times of crisis?" He then turned to the rest of the assembled teaching staff, who looked away from him lest they meet his steely gaze. "Is there truly none among you assembled nobles who are brave enough to willingly answer this call?" Osmond shook his head, annoyed that his chosen staff of so-called powerful mages refused to put themselves on the line when it really mattered. Oh sure, they were all proud and boasted of their nobility, and were of course very eager to taste all the benefits that came with their stations. But when the responsibilities inherent with their status came to call upon them, they all but hid under their beds in fright. How utterly shameful. He himself would love to go, but if word ever got out to the court that had left his post to pursue the thief after they had given him strict instructions to leave the investigations to them, then his enemies would most definitely use it as an excuse to have him removed as head of the Academy. He so hated politics.

Suddenly, much to his surprise, a wand was raised. Only the wand didn't belong to one of the assembled body of learned professors, but from one of the young students in front of him.

"M-Miss Valliere?" Colbert gasped in surprise.

"I, Louise Francoise Le Blanc de La Valliere, swear upon my wand as well as my honor as a noble, that I shall capture the thief Foquet and return the Staff of Destruction safely to the school."

While all the teachers gaped with shock at her proclamation, Rip merely smiled. She knew that her little master would have volunteered to go after the thief no matter what. She was such a brave little child, and now that she knew that she was actually capable of defending herself, that bravery was only strengthened. This also gave Rip the opportunity for a rematch with that arschloch Foquet, or as she liked to call him, _lunch._

"We... we can't!" spoke up Professor Chevreuse. "She's only a student! You can't allow her to go on such a dangerous-"

"Oh, so you are volunteering then?" Osmond asked.

The middle aged woman paled, slowly shaking her head no. "I... uh, am afraid that I am not in the best of health. Therefore it would not-"

"Then it is decided then. Ms. Valliere will go." Osmond, though reluctant to send one of his young students on such a dangerous mission, couldn't help but feel proud of her. Although the adults had disappointed him, it seemed like the younger generation of the nobility still had what it took to keep calling themselves such.

"Well, Louise. Looks like you continue to surprise all of us today," Kirche said. She then raised her own wand up, causing more gasps of surprise from the teachers. "Oh hell, I'll go, too!"

"What?" The pink haired girl turned to her rival, absolutely livid that the taller girl would steal her thunder. "Why?"

The redhead chuckled. "Isn't it obvious? I want to make sure you don't accidentally blow up any villages while you fight Foquet. Did you forget the mess you made outside?"

Louise sputtered in righteous indignation at such a claim. She was about to make a retort when the teachers gasped again. She turned her attention away from Kirche and saw that the quiet blue haired girl standing beside her had raised her staff. The gnarled shepherd's crook waved in the air as she volunteered herself.

"You too, Tabitha?" Kirche asked.

The short girl nodded. "Worried about you." Her pale blue eyes met Louise's own. "Both of you."

Kirche gushed about how adorable her friend was, all the while Louise stared at her in confusion. Tabitha was worried about her, too? Why?

"Well, now, this is quite a surprise!" Osmond stated. "But it is a pleasant one. Regardless of your youth and overall inexperience, I am quite confident that you three will succeed in this endeavor! After all..." The old man turned to Kirche, his eyes admiring her curvacious form for a moment before continuing, "Miss von Zerbst is from a powerful Germanian military family. Their line has produced many great mages. And I hear from her instructors that her fire magic is quite formidable."

The redhead straightened her posture and pushed her chest out proudly. Osmond almost fainted when he saw all the bouncing such an action had produced. "Err... also!" He swiftly shifted his attention to the blue haired girl, who was much less buxom and thus less dangerous to look at. "Miss Tabitha here is quite advanced in her studies. And despite her young age, she holds the prestigious title of Chevalier."

The two other students gasped in surprise.

"What? Really, Tabitha?" Kirche asked. "How come you never told me you were a knight?"

The quiet girl shrugged.

"And of course, there is Miss Valliere," Osmond continued. Louise smiled happily and stood straighter, with her hands confidently upon her hips. "Err..." Her face fell slightly as the old man struggled to come up with a compliment.

"Miss Valliere comes from a long line of great mages!" Osmons stated. He began to sweat as he saw the pink haired girl's wide, hopeful eyes directed straight at him, all but pleading for him to say something nice. Dammit! What could he say? He couldn't very well tell her that he suspected her of being a legendary Void mage! So what... "Err... also, with her defeat of Foquet's golem, she has proven herself to be a very capable mage whose power is only sure to grow in the future!" There. Good save, Osmond!

Louise beamed. _A compliment! From a respected authority figure! I will not cry... I will not cry..._

"Oh, and also," Osmond continued as his attention fell on the tall dark haired woman standing behind Louise. "Miss Valliere's familiar has shown remarkable abilities as a freeshot. Her marksmanship is superb, and she has even defeated General de Gramont's son in a duel!"

"Oh!" Colbert gasped. "That's right! She's the legendary Ganda-" Osmond almost panicked, but thankfully the Professor managed to stop his mouth in time. "Err, uh, sorry. Ha ha, I was thinking of something else."

Rip frowned. The man had obviously been about to say something. Something which was important judging by the look that the old Headmaster had given him. Didn't Foquet call her something that began with a "G" as well? Gandelfine or something?

"Yes, anyway," Osmond continued, hoping to get things moving before anyone questioned Colbert's almost slip up. "I am sure you three will uphold the good name of the Tristain Academy of Magic and succeed in this mission! I have the utmost faith in all of you, and know that you will perform to the utmost as beholding your station."

Ms. Longueville then stepped up. "I shall go as well," she said. "I can escort you four to the village and provide whatever support I can."

Osmond clasped his hands together and gawked at his secretary. "Oh, Ms. Longueville!" He said, tears slowly flowing from his eyes. "You truly are an amazing woman! To put your very life in danger, all to uphold the honor of the school! Oh, if only more nobles were like you!" The old man, so overcome with emotion, moved forward and wrapped his arms around his surprised secretary.

Longueville's eyes widened in what most though was surprise. Truthfully though, the old man was hugging her very tightly, which didn't do her injured ribs any favors. She bit her tongue hard so as not to scream in agony, and everyone watching them thought that the tears dripping out of her eyes were from emotion and not anguish.

It was touching to watch at first, but the hug definitely lasted much too long to be appropriate.

0

"How the hell is that thing still alive?!" Matilda all but shouted as she entered her room. She angrily tossed the ledger she was carrying at the wall, uncaring when it broke apart, scattering various bits of paper all over the floor. She was furious, not to mention a little bit scared, after seeing that the Valliere girl's monstrous familiar was still alive. She had almost fainted in shock when the dark haired creature first stepped inside Osmond's office, its behavior so casual that it was shocking. What was worse was the fact that despite all the injuries she had caused it, the monster looked to be in perfect health.

What type of creature was she dealing with? The thief bit her lip, searching her mind for any clue. Although she was by no means an expert, her knowledge of magical creatures was still quite vast. Unfortunately, she just didn't have enough information about the monster to even hazard a guess as to its true nature.

She sat down on her bed and tried to organize her thoughts. "Okay, I don't know very much about Valliere's familiar. So let's start with what I do know."

It was obviously a fast healer. Nothing could suffer the injuries she had inflicted without having a very strong capacity for magical healing. It also looked remarkably human, except when it had attacked her atop the golem; during those few quick seconds, its eyes had glowed and its teeth became devilishly sharp. This meant it had the ability to shape shift; but the question was whether this skill was a limited one or could it completely change its body? The creature also had the frightening ability to shield itself from magic detection spells. It was obvious to anyone with a brain that this "Rip Van Winkle" was a magical creature since there was no way its skills with a musket was mundane, Gandalfr runes or not. Yet despite casting Detect Magic upon it, the only trace of magic Matilda was able to sense was from the familiar runes on its left hand. It just made no sense!

"Great," muttered the thief angrily. "So I have a shape-shifting immortal monster with the ability to shield itself from scrying spells. _And _a magic musket. Fantastic."

And now she had to take it and its Void mage master out to the middle of nowhere, along with two of the Academy's most gifted students, all so that she could lay a trap for them in order to discover the secret of the Staff of Destruction's activation. How the hell was she going to pull this one off?

Her biggest handicap, aside from being seriously injured, was that her enchanted cloak had been destroyed during the previous day's battle. Whatever type of spell that Louise girl had cast not only managed to demolish her giant golem, but it also completely negated every piece of magical enchantment that her cloak contained. Twelve thousand New Gold's worth of the best identity protection wards and anti-scrying charms just suddenly vaporized in the blink of an eye, turning the thief's expensive, custom made enchanted cloak into nothing more than overpriced rain gear.

"Damn it!" She cried out in frustration. Matilda plopped down onto the bed, which was a mistake since her left side suddenly exploded into agony. The thief cringed and rolled onto her right to alleviate the pressure on her injured ribcage. She closed her eyes, taking steady breaths to calm herself, while her arms wrapped around her trembling body.

Matilda was incredibly tempted to write off this entire fiasco of a heist as a loss. Her current plan was needlessly complicated, and as any good thief knows, needlessly complicated plans usually failed. She reasoned that she could always start again somewhere else, perhaps southern Gallia or even Romalia. She could hit some of the more affluent estates and cathedrals, and steal all their valuables right out from under them. It would be child's play for her, she'd done it countless times before, after all. It would take a while, but she could eventually rebuild her squandered funds. She may even find a buyer for the Staff in a few months after things settled down, though she likely wouldn't get a very good price for it.

_No, _she hissed. _No no NO. _

She absolutely refused to start up again. Matilda was tired, oh so very tired, of playing Foquet. She was exhausted from all the running, all the plotting and planning, all the lost nights of sleep and looking behind her back for fear of being followed. She wanted to stop being scared that at any moment the authorities would catch up to her. She didn't want any more nightmares about some angry noble she had stolen from finding her and gaining their revenge. She just wanted to regain her title and live a normal life. She hated all the lying, she hated all the stealing, she hated it when she had to kill just to cover her tracks. She just wanted it all to stop. And she wanted it to stop before her identity was revealed. What would Tiffania say if she knew what her dear "Big Sis" did for a living? What would the kids the half-elf took care of say when they learned that the kind "Ms. Matty," the one who always came by every few months to give them presents, was the infamous thief Foquet?

"I will stop all this," she told herself. "Once I learn how to use the Staff. It's almost done. I'm so close! I can't stop now. I... I can't."

The exhausted thief sat up on the bed, taking a few minutes to compose herself. She took a long, deep breath, this one to steady her nerves, then stood up. It was time for her to lie again, to put on another mask. That was probably what she missed the most, though, about her life before Foquet.

She missed being herself. She missed being Matilda.

0

Rip Van Winkle tried to get comfortable on the wagon's bench seat, but it was very difficult. Although the seats were cushioned with plush velvet pads, the vehicle's lack of shock absorbers caused every pebble, rock, and dip in the road to send jarring jolts up her spine. The smell of the horse drawing the wagon didn't help either, especially with her sensitive vampire nose. Oh, how she missed 20th Century Earth comforts; it was hard to believe that when she was a child such a primitive form of transportation like this wagon was normal.

Speaking of children, the three seated in the back of the wagon with her were beginning to grate on her nerves a bit, and all for different reasons. Louise and Kirche, for one thing, were loud. They had started bickering almost as soon as the wagon began moving, the pink haired girl the noisier of the two, though the redhead's own mocking tone wasn't that quiet either. It had been cute and funny to listen to at first, but after an hour the entire routine just became irritating. Tabitha, on the other hand, was a different kind of obnoxious. Although she never said a single word, her eyes were constantly staring at her, never once moving away, not even for a moment. Rip tried to ignore the short girl's accusing glare, but it was no use. She could almost _feel_ the gaze burning her like the sunlight.

And speaking of which, the sun was shining brightly overhead in the cloudless blue sky. Being a vampire, this, of course, was a problem. Although she was powerful enough for the warm rays not to be fatal when they struck her pale skin, the sun was still mildly painful. It burned, like a rash, one that sent tingly pinpricks up and down her epidermis, its intensity getting stronger the longer she stayed out within its bright blaze. Sadly, the umbrella that Rip had "borrowed" from that nice first year student had been mangled during the golem fight. This meant she had no shade for the duration of the three hour ride, and thus she would be spending it in even less comfort.

Her fingers came up and pinched the bridge of her nose. It was a strange sensation not feeling the hard, solid weight of her glasses, which were usually perched atop her nose. They were another casualty of the fight with Foquet. Rip had worn spectacles ever since she was a child, and although she didn't really need them anymore since her vampiric conversion had given her better than 20/20 vision, she still liked wearing her old prescription lenses. The glasses actually served to blur her vision, an effect which she found very comforting. To her it was like looking through someone else's eyes. Nothing seemed real, like it was all a bad dream.

A small shadow passed overhead, and Rip looked up to see the distant shape of Sylphid, Tabitha's familiar. The short girl had given the dragon instructions to follow them from the air, and it did so with remarkable intelligence, flying high enough not to be easily seen from the ground yet low enough not to lose sight of the wagon. Kirche had wisely chosen to leave her own familiar behind, a decision that Rip supported since there was no way the large flaming lizard could have fit comfortably in the wagon.

"Oh, this is so stupid!" Louise suddenly barked aloud. She had been arguing with Kirche about something or other, but Rip hadn't been listening so she couldn't be sure what the girls had been talking about. "I don't even know why Foquet would lower himself to the level of petty theft. I mean, what kind of noble would do such a thing?"

"Not all mages are nobles," said Ms. Longueville, who was up front driving the wagon. "Some mages, for one reason or another, lose their noble titles. They are then forced to do a commoner's menial work, though some of the less fortunate, the ones who fail to lose their noble pride, seek less than honorable work to support themselves."

"Oh?" Louise looked over at the older woman.

"Sounds like you have experience in ze matter," Rip spoke up, directing a lazy grin at the secretary's back.

The woman was silent for a moment before answering. "You are right. You see, I, too, am a mage who has fallen from grace." Longueville reached into her robe's pocket and pulled out a worn-looking wand.

"O-oh," Louise looked away, biting her lip. She really hoped she hadn't offended the secretary with her earlier comment.

"That's really interesting," Kirche said. She then leaned closer to the green haired woman and smiled. "So! What did you do to lose your title anyway? Was it scandalous?"

"Zerbst!" Louise shouted, totally outraged. "How could you ask such a rude question? Have you no sense of propriety?"

The redhead rolled her eyes. "Of course I do! But I'm also really curious!"

If Longueville took offense to the question, she didn't show it outright. Instead, the older woman laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, but I'd rather keep that to myself."

Kirche sighed before sinking back down onto her seat, admitting defeat. "Oh, fine. But you should just tell me now, since I'll found out eventually." Or not.

The rest of the trip south had been quiet for the most part, though Louise and Kirche still occasionally sniped at each other. Rip could tell it was more to alleviate boredom than actual arguing, since their current interactions lacked the ire and volume of their earlier ones. Tabitha still continued her silent stare, and the vampire was so incredibly tempted to just leap forwards and gouge the little brat's eyes out. Knowing that she couldn't do that, though, Rip merely settled for fighting fire with fire. She sat back and _returned _the blue haired girl's stare. The two of them remained that way for the rest of the trip, silently glaring into each others' eyes. Even Kirche and Louise noticed their strange behavior, but the redhead attributed it to a silly game and the two students left it at that. They completely missed the pure, deadly intent in both blue irises.

Eventually, the wagon came to a stop as Ms. Longueville steered the horses to the side of the dirt road. "The cabin, according to my contacts, is about a half a mile west of this point," the green haired woman told them. The wagon's occupants nodded, and they hopped off the vehicle to begin their march through the woods. Tabitha's dragon followed them discreetly from high up in the air.

Longueville lead the way through the thick brush and trees, with the students following and Rip bringing up the rear. The plant life and scenery reminded the vampire of her days as a lone sniper taking out Allied soldiers during the later days of the war, when Hitler's forces were suffering so badly that they had been forced to dip into Millenium's members for aid. This last ditch attempt at saving themselves was utterly futile though, as no amount of unique and supernatural abilities could save the Nazis from the unstoppable march of the Allied war machine. Both the Major and Doktor had been most upset, since they had lost more than two thirds of their subjects in what they called a useless waste of manpower and resources.

"There it is," Ms. Longueville said as they entered a large clearing. In the center of the area was a lonely looking old cabin, one that looked like it was half falling apart.

"Are you sure he's in there?" Asked Louise.

Kirche smirked. "Only one way to find out." She drew her wand, obviously eager for some action.

Rip frowned, since her senses could detect nothing alive inside the old rickety structure. Then again, for whatever reason, her sixth sense couldn't detect Foquet yesterday either, so there was no telling if he was inside the cabin or not. The vampire frowned; she hated surprises.

"S-so... how should we do this?" Louise asked, her tone obviously nervous.

"Aw, what's the matter, Zero? You scared?" Kirche's smirk grew wider.

"What? No! Shut up, Zerbst!" The pink haired girl's cheeks puffed up in fury. She turned away from the annoying redhead and drew her wand. "I-I just wanted to plan out a strategy! You know, maybe break out into teams and perform a pitcher maneuver or something. Aren't you from a military family? You should know all this, dammit!"

Kirche merely burst out into laughter. "Oh, Zero. You are just so _adorable_ when you try to be serious."

"Go to hell!" Louise swiftly turned on her heel and began advancing on the cabin. Kirche followed her, still chuckling to herself.

_About time,_ Rip grinned. After the long ride here, she was eager for blood. She hefted her musket, readying it in her right hand. It was fully loaded and eager for battle. Tabitha had already moved, jogging swiftly to catch up to the two other students. As a veteran of numerous military maneuvers, Rip was all but certain that this was a trap, but she wasn't too worried. When Foquet attacked, the redhead and the annoying blue haired brat would serve as nice distractions while she and Louise took the mage out. If the two somehow managed to get killed, well, no big loss; Louise didn't seem particularly fond of both of them anyway.

"I'll stay in the trees and move around behind the cabin, just in case Foquet tries to escape that way," Ms. Longueville told her. Rip ignored the woman and continued moving forwards. Frankly, she couldn't have cared less what the secretary did; mage or not, the woman didn't seem like a fighter and would probably just get in the way if things got hectic. And so, she marched forwards, frowning a bit when her boot sunk into the soft earth of the clearing. Rip looked down and noticed that the soil around the rustic shack was completely saturated and muddy.

"Fantastic," the vampire muttered as her foot sank deeply into an especially deep mud puddle. "I really hate vet toes..."

Tabitha reached the front door of the cabin first, and motioned everyone to stay back. She raised her staff above her head and began waving it around, all the while casting an incantation under her breath. After a few moments, she lowered the staff back down and said, "No traps."

Kirche quickly moved forwards, her tall form showing remarkable grace as she dashed from one window to another, discreetly checking inside. Finally, after peeking into all the windows, she returned. "Huh. No one's inside."

"Maybe Foquet already left?" Louise asked them. A small, more cowardly part of her desperately hoped that such was the case.

"Or maybe he's still inside, hiding, lying in wait for cute little pink haired girls to enter his abode so he can capture and have his naughty way with them."

"Shut up, Kirche!" The pink haired girl snarled. "And keep me out of your perverted fantasies!"

"Stop it, bose of you," Rip said with a roll of her eyes. "I had to listen to you two all ze vay up here arguing like an old married couple. My head can't take much more." Both Louise and Kirche glared at the dark haired woman for making such an insinuation and were about to complain about it, but their mouths quickly shut when Rip raised her musket and aimed it towards the cabin. "Anyvay, all zis arguing is pointless." She flashed the same frightening feral smile she had given Louise outside of Osmond's office. Her eyes narrowed, a hungry gaze directed towards the ramshackle hut. "Tinker, tailor. Soldier, sailor. Vizard or Vastrel. My bullet punishes all vithout distinction. Vone shot is all I need. Vether Foquet is inside or not von't matter... he'll be Swiss cheeze no matter vhat."

Just as she was about to pull the trigger, her master leaped in front of the weapon. "No! Stop!"

"Louise!" Rip snarled, furious that the girl would do something so foolhardy. She almost blew her head off. "Vhat ze hell do you sink you're doing?"

"You can't!" the young student told her. "The Staff of Destruction might be in there! If you shoot, you might damage it!"

The vampire frowned, reluctantly lowering her gun. "Scheisse," she muttered. "Fine. Ve'll do it your vay. But, if I see zat thief, I plan on taking his life."

Louise gulped, somewhat frightened by the ferocity her familiar had been showing today. She must be really upset. Then again, Foquet did almost kill her. She supposed that she'd be pretty mad, too, if someone did the same to her. "Okay, but don't fire until we're in danger! Your attack is way too dangerous to be used so off-handedly."

Rip smiled at her. "Ze same can be said for you, little master."

The pink haired girl frowned, not knowing how to reply to that.

"Come," Tabitha said simply as she opened the door to the cabin. The blue haired girl didn't wait for the others as she entered, her staff held ready in case of attack. Kirche and Louise moved to follow.

"I'll stay out here and make sure ve aren't attacked from ze outside," Rip told Louise. "My abilities are useless in tight, confined spaces anyvay."

The pink haired girl nodded before entering the cabin. Rip turned away and began scanning the scenery, trying to find some clue as to where her prey was. Her senses alerted her to the presence of the three teenagers inside the cabin, who were currently searching the interior of the shack, as well as Ms. Longueville who was hiding near the treeline just as she had said earlier. There were also numerous animals nearby: a deer, three rabits, five squirrels, and a dying goat. But no sign of Foquet.

The vampire sighed, feeling extremely frustrated. She really, really wanted to kill something. To rip into flesh with her teeth. To set something ablaze. She wanted to hear screaming, feel the blood on her skin. She wanted to sing out loud as her bullet seared through the air, perforating her target until it was nothing but ash and dust.

"Vere is zis schädling?" Rip asked tersely. She looked down and saw that her once shiny boots were now covered in mud. Typical. She looked around the field, silently wondering if Longeuville's investigation was faulty and they were all out here on a wild goose chase. Suddenly, her eyes widened when she noticed something peculiar. All around her in the clearing, the soil surrounding the cabin was wet and muddy. Yet she distinctly remembered that the grass and dirt in the woods had been bone dry.

"Hey, I found something!" Her hearing picked up Louise's voice calling out excitedly from inside the shack. "Is... is this the Staff of Destruction?"

It was at that moment that Rip's sixth sense suddenly flared up, her entire body tensing as she sensed DANGER. Trusting her instincts, the vampire leaped quickly away from the cabin just as the ground she had been standing on erupted upwards. As she landed, her feet slipped on the slick, muddy soil, almost causing her to topple over onto her butt. After righting herself and turning to face the cabin, her eyes widened as they caught sight of a gigantic golem that had just sprung up from the muddy soil.

Although the golem shared both the general size and shape of Foquet's earlier creation, this one had remarkable differences. For one, unlike the golem she and Louise fought yesterday, this one was not composed of dirt and stone but of wet, dripping mud. It looked like an unfinished clay sculpture, with bits of muck dribbling off its clumpy skin. Bits of twigs and dead grass also sprouted up from the surface of the silt, making the construct look more like an organic creature than the creation of magic that it actually was. All in all, Rip definitely preferred the thief's original work to this one, since this current golem looked like a gigantic walking pile of dog excrement. And that was just nasty.

"So, Foquet, you finally make your move," Rip smiled as she looked up at the hideous monstrosity before her. "Good. Make me vork for it. I do love a good exercise before I have my meal."

The vampire hefted up her musket, aiming it one-handed at the golem, then grinned maniacally. "Vorks up quite an apptetite."


	13. Chapter 13: The Staff of Destruction

**XIII. The Staff of Destruction**

Deep in the forest to the south of the Tristain Academy of Magic, outside a ramshackle old cabin and standing upon a large field of mud, two monsters faced off. One was a gigantic, one hundred foot tall creation of mud, dirt and twigs. It loomed over its enemy, who by comparison was much less impressive. Its opponent was a tall woman with dark hair, dressed in an ill-fitting and tattered black suit. In her right hand was an impractically long flintlock musket whose sights were aimed directly at the mud giant. Despite their massive difference in size, the woman showed absolutely no fear. Instead, her face was twisted into a hungry grin, her white teeth shining, canines looking inhumanly long and sharp. Her eyes were dark blue pools filled with blood lust, and they longed to see destruction and death.

The cabin's front door crashed opened and out rushed a short young girl with pink hair. She wore the typical uniform of the Tristain Magical Academy, which consisted of a second year student's black cloak, crisp white linen blouse, and dark gray skirt. After hearing the massive rumble caused by the golem erupting from the muddy soil, the teenager had rushed outside in alarm. She quickly stopped in her tracks after a few steps when she saw the gigantic monstrosity, her pink eyes widening in horror.

Her two classmates and fellow adventurers exited the cabin right behind her. They too had similar reactions upon seeing the giant mud creature, though in the shorter, blue haired girl's case her shock was barely noticeable. In contrast, the tall redhead gaped at the golem, while her fingers clutched at the ornate box containing the Staff of Destruction. It was the item that they had been sent to retrieve, a magical relic of great destructive power.

"You didn't tell me these golems were so _big!_" Kirche complained as she looked up at the massive, hundred foot tall construct in disbelief.

"Shut it, Zerbst!" Louise growled as she drew her wand and began to prepare a spell.

Tabitha remained silent, though she too readied her staff in preparation for an attack.

"Stand back, children," Rip called out, her face still twisted into a demented grin. "Zis one is mine!" The vampire aimed her weapon directly at its center mass, right between two large clumps of muddy rock resembling eyes. "Tinker, tailor. Soldier, sailor. Vizard or vastrel. My bullet punishes all vithout distinction!" With a pull of the trigger, flint struck pan and a massive explosion of sound and smoke preceded the blue flash of her bullet rocketing out of the musket's barrel. The impossible warhead shot forwards, its speed and power casting trails of eerie blue light in its wake. It zipped about, tearing through the air, building up speed and momentum for a devastating impact.

When it hit, the sound was deafening. It was like a fist hitting a pound of flesh, only magnified a hundred fold. The golem's chest exploded in a shower of mud and dirt, a large lumpy crater forming upon its chest. The force of the impact caused the gigantic construct to slide back thirty feet through the muddy clearing, and the students had to rush away lest they be barreled over the by its hulking bulk as it powered by. Despite the force of the blow, Rip's bullet failed to penetrate its thick, muddy form. Though it had the power to pierce a tank's armor, the musket ball became caught inside the golem's body. The construct's magically packed-together mud had managed to absorb the tremendous forces propelling the bullet, and like a giant kevlar vest it dispersed much of the kinetic energy of the lead ball, thus rendering it useless.

Rip Van Winkle gaped at the monster in front of her, and her left eye twitched as she watched the large gouge her attack had caused in its body seal back up with mud. She then snorted, shaking her head in disbelief as she grinned in embarrassment. "Vell, I'm out of ideas," the vampire remarked with a shrug.

"Stupid familiar!" Louise shouted out in fury.

Kirche laughed. "Well, Zero. Looks like your familiar IS a good match for its master. Both of you are completely useless."

The pink haired girl ignored the Germanian's remark, turning her full attention to the golem. She aimed the tip of her wand at its gigantic form then began chanting the incantation for a fireball spell. Once complete, she lashed out with her magic and shouted, "Fireball!"

A small puff of smoke spattered against the golem's back. The giant construct ignored the pitiful attack as it moved to advance on Rip, its left arm rising in preparation to strike. The vampire leapt backwards, not bothering to wait for the hulking monster to come closer. She remembered how Foquet had trapped her yesterday with those stone arms and didn't wish to repeat that rather painful incident. Her second sight flared wildly around her, searching the nearby wooded area for any sign of the thief, but just like yesterday she could not get a bead on him. She was able to sense Louise, the redhead and the blue haired brat, Ms. Longueville hiding behind the trees, and a myriad of animals in the woods, but nothing else. She had expected to at least get a visual on the mage, but he was nowhere to be seen. Where could he be hiding?

Her train of thought suddenly stopped when after leaping several times, her foot slipped in a particularly slick patch of mud and she plopped backwards into an undignified heap. There was a loud splash, and soon she found her thin body half buried in the thick mud. The vampire spat out a mouthful of the crud, silently cursing her current awful luck. Thankfully she had managed to keep a tight grip on her musket, and thus the familiar runes on her left hand were still active.

"Fireball! Fireball! Fireball!" Louise shouted, casting desperately at the golem to no effect. Over and over puffs of smoke from small explosions erupted upon the construct's clumpy skin, but they seemed to do no damage whatsoever. She absolutely refused to give up, though. She defeated Foquet's golem yesterday. She knew she could do so again today. "Fireball! Fireball! Fire-"

"Fireball!" Kirche shouted. This time a true ball composed of whirling flames appeared and shot directly at the construct's back. It hit, exploding into a bright flare of red; the golem became staggered from the force of the large detonation, as well as the flames that had suddenly engulfed the top half of its body. Kirche then turned to Louise and gave her a wink. "Was that what you were trying to do, Zero?"

Louise glared at the redhead before turning away, her teeth gritted in hate. _Damn her! It's not fair! Showoff! Why the hell did she have to come anyway? _

The golem turned away from Rip, as it now saw Kirche as the primary threat. The flames that had once engulfed it quickly extinguished, leaving patches of dry, baked dirt on the golem's back. The giant began to plod towards the three teenagers, smoke from the redhead's fireball still wafting from its form. Rip used this time to pull herself back up to her feet, noting with distaste that her long hair and clothes were absolutely covered in muck. The vampire moved swiftly to reload, only to stop upon seeing that the breech and barrel of her gun had become fouled with mud. "Scheisse!" she cursed, then dug through her pockets to find something to clean the mess with.

"Fire!" shouted Kirche as she cast another flame spell at the approaching golem. A long, continuous stream of flame seared through the air from her wand, bathing the monster in heat, but the golem's plodding steps did not stagger. It continued stomping towards them, its arms beginning to rise up.

"Damn this thing!" The redhead complained, cutting off her spell as it proved ineffective.

"Wind." Tabitha aimed her staff at the golem, then let loose a powerful gust of air. The swift stream of spinning wind slammed into the golem, pushing it back a step, but once the spell dissipated it resumed its forward movement.

"Thunder!" Louise shouted. Despite trying a different spell, the effect remained the same as a small puff of smoke smacked at the approaching golem's side. The pink haired girl screamed in frustration. Why was nothing working? She did it yesterday, why not now?

"Louise!" Kirche shouted. "Here!" The redhead tossed her the case containing the Staff of Destruction, and Louise almost dropped it in surprise. "Take this and get back to the Academy! We'll take care of Foquet."

Tabitha let loose a shrill whistle, which was quickly answered by a loud roar from the air. Within seconds, Sylphid swept through the sky overhead and landed down next to the students, its neck lowered to allow them to hop on. "Go," the blue haired girl told Louise.

"But... but..." the pink haired girl looked from the golem to the dragon, unsure of what to do.

"Hurry up, Louise!" Kirche said after tossing another fireball at the construct. "If you stay, then you'll just wind up getting hurt."

"N-No! I won't go!" Louise cried out. "I am a noblewoman, daughter of the Duke and Duchess Valliere! I will not flee from a fight like some coward! I refuse!"

Kirche turned around to face the shorter girl, then lashed out with a slap. Her palm smacked Louise hard in the cheek, causing the surprised girl to topple backwards onto the mud.

"What?" Louise rubbed her reddened cheek, then brought her tearful eyes up to look at Kirche in shock. Although their arguments had often been heated, Kirche had never struck out at her physically.

"Damn it, Zero! This isn't a game! You could die!" The redhead shouted down at her. The tall girl's tone was angry, but behind that ire it was obvious to Louise that there was a note of concern for her as well. The pink haired girl looked up at her rival in confusion, not knowing what to make of her behavior. "This is not the time for you to be deluding yourself, damn it! You can yell at me or slap me back later; right now you have to get out of here! Do it!"

Tabitha began blasting the golem with a wave of ice, an attack that seemed to be partly effective as it managed to slow the monster down. Unfortunately such a delay was only temporary; within a few seconds, the ice that had formed on the golem's skin shattered, and it began moving forward once more.

"Now go!" Kirche told Louise, her voice stern and brokering no argument. She quickly switched her attention back to the golem and began chanting. "Fireball!" She shouted, lashing out and sending a flaming orb directly into the construct's midsection. It exploded in a gust of flame, but once the fire died down the golem continued to move. "This thing isn't going down!"

No matter how many times they hit it, the thing just kept on coming. All over its muddy hide was evidence as to the power of their spells: frozen bits of mud were mixed in with several chunks of soil dried and hardened by fire. Yet despite the damage the golem continued to move, its gigantic form almost on top of them.

Suddenly, there was the loud eruption of a familiar explosion. The three students heard the unearthly sound of something fast and small whizzing through the air, the din similar to a thousand sword slashes echoing all around them. Just as the golem raised its right arm, intent on smashing it down onto them, a blue aura flashed by and the golem's arm exploded at its elbow joint. This area of its arm had been hit by both Kirche and Tabitha's spells, and thus the mud composing it had become hardened by both extremes of hot and cold. It was the perfect spot for a super-charged lead musket ball to penetrate, the hardened surface now brittle as glass.

"Time to die, you valking pile of shit," Rip said softly as she smiled. Thankfully, she had managed to clean out the gunk in her musket barrel just in time to reload and save the three schoolgirls from being squished. She manipulated the bullet to pepper the golem's right elbow joint, the little round metal ball zig-zagging through the air in a tight and narrow formation. After the multitude of direct hits, the joint shattered. The creature's giant forearm then fell, collapsing back into mud as soon as it hit the ground.

But the bullet's path did not end there. It quickly changed trajectories after the arm fell; this time the musket ball zipped around and smashed into the hardened chunks of earth in the golem's side. That part of the golem exploded, chunks of hardened soil and frozen earth flying about. Louise, Kirche, Tabitha, and even Sylphid had to rush out of the way, lest they become buried under the large piles of dirt that was raining from above. Over and over Rip's bullet attacked the hardened portions of the mud golem, piercing each point that had been hit by Kirche and Tabitha's spells and knocking more bits and pieces off of the hulking monster. Eventually, the devastating attack proved too much as the golem fell to its knees, half of its body now missing and scattered about the field.

"Ha! Die you filthy creature!" Rip shouted in glee as her bullet finally disintegrated. She quickly pulled out another paper cartridge from her pocket and began to reload. This was it! She could smell victory within her grasp!

Then, to Rip's utter dismay, mud from the ground began to _flow_ up onto the golem and fill in the missing portions of the construct that her bullet had sheared off. Within seconds, the mud monstrosity was fully formed once more. It stood back up to its full one hundred foot height, its muddy body looking completely undamaged. "Oh you have got to be kidding me," the vampire gasped out in shock.

"No, damn it!" Kirche shouted in frustration. She had thought that Louise's familiar had actually managed to defeat the golem, but even after all their efforts it just healed itself and was at a hundred percent again! It was so not fair!

Louise looked back and forth between her classmates and familiar, not liking the looks on their faces one bit. Kirche and Rip had been confident while they fought, but now they seemed so utterly lost. Even the usually stoic Tabitha looked somewhat afraid.

It was then that she remembered the item in her hand. She looked down at the ornate box Kirche had thrown her, and recalled just what Old Osmond had told them about it. _The Staff of Destruction. A powerful magical item. _If anything could defeat this monstrous golem, then surely it would have been the Staff!

Louise quickly undid the latches and opened the box. Inside was the strangest looking contraption she had ever seen: it was a short, cylindrical tube of green metal with several intricate looking panels on its surface, along what appeared to be a green canvas strap on one side. Upon the surface of the so-called staff were strange, unknown runes of some sort that had been stamped in white paint. The most prominent and largest of the runes were stamped near the end of the cylinder, though the young noble had no idea what it said.

**US ARMY **

**W/ROCK HEAT LAW 66MM M72A2**

**OCTOL 2**

**LOT 9-RA-72**

Louise ignored the riddle of the runes, choosing instead to focus on the task at hand. With a little difficulty, she managed to extract the cumbersome magical artifact out of its box, tossing the container aside as she held up the Staff rather awkwardly.

_How the heck are you supposed to cast with this bulky thing?_ Louise asked herself as she grasped the unwieldy "staff" aloft with both hands.

"Louise! What are you doing?!" Kirche shouted. The redhead glanced back at her as she threw a stream of fire at the approaching golem, her tanned face covered with sweat. "I told you to run!"

"We can use the Staff of Destruction!" The young girl aimed the green tube towards the mud construction and began to incant. She focused on the words to the fireball spell, then tried to push the magic through the Staff as she would for any focus. But try as she might, she could not make a connection with it. "Fireball!" she shouted while swinging the Staff around like her wand. "Fireball, dammit!" She felt the muddy ground shake as the golem stepped closer. "Fireball! Why won't you work?!"

"Zhat can't be!" Rip muttered to herself in shock when she saw what her little master was holding in her hands. It was similar to the bazookas her enemies in the war had used with devastating effect, and she wondered how in the hell a rocket launcher had managed to find its way onto this primitive world.

After watching the pink haired girl flail around with the weapon to no effect, Rip dashed swiftly through the mud towards her. Using the familiar runes, she appeared in front of her summoner in a flash, causing the girl to let out a startled shriek.

"R-Rip?" Louise gasped, worry and panic in her eyes. The golem, though being bombarded with spells from both Kriche and Tabitha, was almost upon them.

"Hold zis," the vampire told the pink haired girl as she passed over her musket while grabbing the Staff of Destruction. Louise almost dropped the firearm, surprised at how heavy the large gun was; Rip had carried it around like it was nothing, and not for the first time the girl was shocked as to how disturbingly strong her familiar was.

The dark haired woman, sneered as she held the Staff in her hands, a disgusted look on her face. How utterly humiliating it was for her to be forced into using a Yankee weapon. Her Nazi pride stung a bit, but she reasoned that in this case it would be okay; the Major would find nothing wrong with it, after all, and he would say that using the enemy's weapons was a valid survival tactic. "Bah, let's get zis over vith."

For a moment she was worried that she'd have no idea how to use the damn thing. The only rocket launcher she had been trained to use was the Panzerfaust, and this weapon looked remarkably more advanced and complex. Thankfully, her familiar runes helped her out once more as it gave her the necessary knowledge to be an expert in using the device. With the swift and steady hand of an experienced U.S. soldier, Rip prepared the weapon for firing. First, she pulled the pin, which released the front cover. Then she grasped both ends and pulled, extending the inner barrel out and locking the assembly. She then placed the launcher onto her shoulder and aligned the front and rear sights towards the golem.

"Redhead, annoying quiet girl! If you two don't vant to die, I suggest you move!" She turned to look behind her and saw the dragon watching her with curiosity. "You, too, lizard!"

Tabitha and Kirche saw her holding the mysterious Staff of Destruction and wisely chose to leap away. Sylphid, on the other hand, just tilted her head in confusion. Rip didn't bother warning the dragon again as she pulled the trigger arming handle to the ARM position, then depressed the trigger bar. A gust of super heated air erupted from the rear of the tube, and Sylphid roared out in pain as her scales became singed. From the front of the Staff shot out a single rocket, a trail of white smoke left in its wake. The rocket flew straight and true towards the golem, not stopping until it impacted it dead center. The warhead then detonated, exploding in a massive burst of fire and concussive force. Flaming bits of mud and dirt fell all around them, and in just seconds the gigantic construct was reduced to bubbling muck.

The three young students gazed in awe at the sheer destructive power of the Staff. They now knew that its name was most definitely fitting. They had just seen power equal to the most devastating Square-class attack spells used by a commoner. The three stood silently, staring at Rip. None of them could form the words to adequately voice the sheer amazement that they all felt. The Staff of Destruction truly was something to fear and admire.

Which was why all of them became boggle-eyed when Rip just carelessly tossed aside the sacred magical artifact onto the mud like it was nothing but trash.

"Familiar!" Louise shouted, totally bewildered by the dark haired woman's actions. "Don't treat a priceless artifact like that!" The girl rushed over to the Staff and picked it up carefully. She began to clean off the muck from the metal tube, aghast that her familiar would treat such a powerful weapon so irresponsibly. This was quite hard to do, since she was still carrying Rip's heavy musket in her arms.

"Bah, it served its purpose," Rip remarked irritably.

0

Matilda had watched the fight with equal parts shock, horror, and bewilderment. Shock, because she once again saw how frighteningly and impossibly powerful the Valliere girl's familiar was. Horror, because the group had worked surprisingly well together and had almost managed to take down her mud golem. And bewilderment not only after witnessing the sheer power of the Staff of Destruction, but by the fact that it was the monster who was able to use it. She suddenly very much doubted Osmond's claim that the Staff was a "holy" relic; how holy could the thing possibly be a divine artifact if a monster like van Winkle was able to use it?

It didn't matter. Despite all the setbacks, her plan had worked. The familiar had shown her exactly how to activate the Staff, and with that knowledge she could use the artifact's power to regain her noble title. Then she could use her family's old influence to make sure that Tiffania and her kids were safe, maybe get them passage out of Albion while civil strife still consumed the island nation.

There were only two things to do now: retrieve the Staff of Destruction, then silence all the witnesses. Unfortunately for the three young girls, they had seen her face. After she steals the Staff, they would know the identity of the infamous Foquet. As much as Matilda didn't wish to harm children, she could not let her secret get out. And so she would kill, for what she prayed would be the last time. She could then hide the bodies, then quietly disappear. Everyone would assume that the vile Foquet had murdered everyone in the expedition, including the helpful Ms. Longueville. Osmond would probably receive most of the blame and oncoming political backlash, but Matilda hardly cared what happened to that perverted old fool. Frankly, he deserved everything coming to him; he did, after all, send three inexperienced young girls on a dangerous mission.

The only complication could be that monstrous familiar. Matilda still knew so very little about its abilities. Regardless, she was sure that the Staff of Destruction would be more than capable of killing the annoying creature.

The green haired woman took a deep, calming breath to steady her nerves. Then she moved to exit the treeline. She put on the mask of Ms. Longueville and made her way across the mud towards the group composed of three students and two familiars. She'd probably also need to take care of Tabitha's dragon, but with the Staff such a task should be child's play.

"Ms. Longueville!" Louise called out when she spotter her. The young girl smiled brightly. "I'm so glad you're safe! We were worried that Foquet may have gotten you!"

Matilda felt her heart cringe, but forced a friendly smile to form upon her lips. "Don't worry, I was safely hiding in the woods. Thank you for your concern, though. And excellent work on defeating that golem."

"Yes, but it's too bad that we didn't get Foquet," Kirche sighed. "Where'd that slippery eel go to, anyway?"

"I'm sure he'll turn up," Matilda told her as she moved towards Louise. "What is important is that you managed to secure the Staff. Lord Osmond will be most pleased." She smiled at the pink haired girl and held out her hands. "May I have the Staff, please?"

The young girl nodded as she handed the green cylinder over. "Of course."

Matilda sighed as a rush of adrenaline seized her body._ At last_. Her delicate fingers gripped the hard metal of the Staff tightly. Finally, at long last, her victory was assured.

The green haired woman turned around, hugging the surprisingly light metal tube to her chest. _Finally, __it was over. _Matilda closed her eyes, mentally preparing herself for what needed to be done. _One last time. Just one last time. I am so sorry._

"Ms. Longueville?" Louise asked, the worried tone in her voice making Matilda's heart break.

The thief moved stiffly, walking several paces forwards before turning around. She put on Foquet's mask once more, perhaps, she hoped, for the last time. Her kindly features vanished, replaced by the stern and imposing glare that she had practiced in the mirror countless times.

"I would like to thank you four, very much," she told them. Her voice had also changed, the tones turning deeper and more sinister. "Without you, I would never have figured out how to use the Staff." She then raised the Staff of Destruction to her shoulders and mimicked the pose that Rip had used to activate the weapon.

"What?" Louise gaped. She took a sharp step back, shaking her head in disbelief.

"I get it," the monster spoke up, her dark blue eyes glinting with palpable menace. "You're Foquet."

"That's correct," Matilda told her. "I had no idea how to activate the Staff, you see. I had originally assumed that Osmond would send his best and brightest instructors to retrieve it and capture me, but of course that senile old fool sent young girls to do a mage's job. Thankfully, your familiar was here to help me out," the green haired woman sent a smile towards the creature, who met her look with narrowed eyes. "Just as expected from the legendary Gandalfr."

"The what?" Louise asked.

Matilda quickly aimed the Staff towards Tabitha and Kirche, who were attempting to level their foci at her. "I don't think so. Wands and weapons. On the ground. NOW."

Kirche dropped her wand onto the mud, and Tabitha did the same with her staff. Louise continued holding onto her wand as well as her familiar's firearm, her head still shaking in disbelief. "M-Ms. Longueville... why?"

"Do it!" Matilda shouted threateningly, causing the young girl to scream and drop the wand and gun onto the ground. Although her mask was smiling serenely, inside she felt sick. She really didn't want to do this. But she knew she had no choice. "You two," she told Kirche and Tabitha, "move closer to them." The two students followed her instructions, moving themselves until they stood with Louise and her familiar. Tabitha's dragon growled, obviously sensing that her master was in danger, but Matilda payed it no mind. She knew that with the Staff in her possession, the beast posed her no threat.

"You don't have to do this," Kirche said, her voice unusually serious. She had obviously deduced that Foquet meant to kill them all. Clever girl. "You have the Staff of Destruction. You can just leave now, and nobody has to die. We promise not to come after you."

Oh, if only it were that simple. "Sorry, kids," Matilda, as Foquet, said. "But you know my face. You know what Foquet truly looks like. And I can't have that." Her hand went over to the trigger bar, the same one she had seen the monster press to fire off the staff. _This was it, just finish them off and be on your way. One last set of murders. Then you can be free._

"Tell me," the voice caused Matilda to flinch. It had come from the familiar, the monster in human form. She turned her attention to the tall, dark haired creature and saw its eyes narrowed, the fury evident from within the blue pools. "Tell me, how does it feel to betray ze trust of zose you vork for. How does it feel to string along all zese young, impressionable minds? How does it feel to betray zose who look up to you, who called you a friend and stood beside you?" The creature was snarling now, disgust evident in its voice. "How does it feel?"

"Shut up!" Matilda broke through the Foquet mask for a moment, her calm facade cracking as her emotions got the better of her. "Shut the hell up, you monster! You don't know what I've been through! You don't know what I had to go through to-" She quickly cut off her tirade, knowing it was pointless. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. No, no, she couldn't get caught up in this. She didn't have the luxury of defending her actions. Matilda knew that deep down, she had no defense; what she was doing was wrong, plain and simple. But she didn't have a choice. And she couldn't insult the people she was about to murder by asking them to understand her plight. She wasn't that selfish.

"Enough." The Foquet mask was back on, her eyes hardened, her lips slackened to a grim frown. She knew what she had to do. She aimed the Staff towards the four, readying herself to murder one last time. The three schoolgirls shrieked, flinching, dreading what was about to come.

_I'm sorry,_ she wanted to tell them as she pressed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

Again, Matilda pressed the bar. Nothing. She tried it several more times, each press becoming more desperate. Nothing! "No..." she gasped, Foquet's mask cracking as panic began to set in.

The monster's laugh brought her attention back to the group in front of her. Although the three students looked utterly terrified, the devilish familiar was only amused. It flashed Matilda the absolutely most terrifying grin she had ever seen. Its mouth seemed to twist up in a horrifying manner, and the teeth... good God, its teeth. They were razor sharp and completely inhuman, within that feral grin the rows of fangs looked absolutely demented. "You foolish woman," the monster laughed, her voice sounding utterly thrilled. "Zat veapon is like my musket." Her smile widened, teeth dangerously sharp, eyes glowing with hunger and desire. "It. Only. Has. Vone. Shot."

Absolute terror took hold of Matilda. Her plans were ruined. The Staff was useless! All her work, all her sacrifice, all had been for nothing! She quickly tossed away the Staff of Destruction and drew her wand. She lashed out, a quick spell ready on her lips, but unfortunately for her the monster proved far quicker. With a speed that was completely inhuman, the beast rushed forwards and caught her wand hand by the wrist, twisting hard until a loud _snap_ was heard. Matilda opened her mouth to scream as a pulse of pain rushed up from the injured limb, but again the monster was faster. Its other hand whipped forwards, fingers splayed, and struck her in the chest. The strength behind the blow was impossible, as the limb easily pierced through skin, bone and organs. Blood gushed forth from the wound, coating the monster's arm in gore. Matilda wanted to scream, the pain was immense, but all that erupted form her mouth were loud gurglings along with a thick mixture of spittle and blood.

The thief, with much difficulty, lifted her head up to look her killer in the face. The monster was still grinning her shark-toothed smile, her eyes glowing with an eerie indigo light. Within the blue orbs she could see complete and absolute delight, and Matilda almost wept upon realizing how much joy and pleasure this creature was taking in her suffering. In one final show of defiance, she snarled at the monster before spitting right in its face. A red smear splattered against the vile creature's nose and lips. The beast's smirk softened for a bit before returning with a vengeance, and to Matilda's disgust its long, pointed tongue emerged to lick at the blood that had splattered on its lips.

The dying thief's eyes moved past the monster and saw the three students behind it. All three were staring in shock at the terrible scene before them. All wore expressions of alarm and anxiety, even the ever-stoic Tabitha looked pale. But it was Louise Valliere that caught her attention the most. The pink haired girl looked so utterly panicked and dismayed, with tears leaking from her wide eyes. What surprised Matilda though was the fact that the girl looked at her with such concern and regret; to know that even though she had, mere moments ago, just tried to murder this girl and yet, she still showed such compassion towards such a horrible person like her...

_I'm sorry,_ Matilda wanted to tell her. _I'm so sorry._

She felt the monster let go of her limp, broken arm. It fell lifelessly to her side. The monster reached up and snatched the glasses off her face, smiling evilly as it placed them onto her own. Matilda felt her life slowly draining away, she felt cold as her blood pooled around the mud at her feet. The monster leaned in, its smile still demented and sadistic, and it asked her one final, cruel question.

"How does it _feel_?"

It then squeezed something deep inside of her, causing the dying thief to convulse in agony. Tighter and tighter the grip squeezed, the pain rising and rising, until suddenly, mercifully, she felt something pop and the pain stopped. She felt her body become lighter and lighter, number and number, and soon she saw nothing but white.

And Matilda de Saxe-Gotha died.

0

Rip Van Winkle sighed, feeling remarkably better. She really, really needed that.

With a careless flick of her wrist, the thief's corpse slid off her arm and dropped to the mud. It thudded dully into the blood-soaked soil, its green hair coming undone from its coif to splay wildly around its still head. The eyes were still wide open, the dull brown orbs glassy and lifeless.

Rip reached up to her nose to adjust the new glasses she had just acquired, her bloody gloves carelessly smearing red upon the frame. Although the lenses were larger and more squarish than her old pair, it was still nice to have the comforting weight back on her face. The lenses also made her vision a bit blurrier than before, and she felt herself become more relaxed as she looked through the dream-like haze the spectacles lent to the world.

"Y-you killed her!" Louise's voice brought Rip out of her pondering, and the vampire turned her head back to regard her summoner. The pink haired girl was beside herself, steady tracks of tears staining her cheeks. Her face was pale, her lip quivering with fright; it was obvious the youth hand never seen such extreme violence before. Too bad, Rip thought in amusement. With a vampire as her familiar, the girl better get used to it.

"You just... you just killed her! In cold blood!" Louise was shouting now, slowly becoming hysterical.

"Of course," Rip stated dully. "Ze bitch vas a traitor. All traitors deserve to die."

"B-b-b-but... you just... you murdered her!" Louise cried out. She was openly sobbing now, unable to handle what she had just seen. Never in her life had she seen such a horrific sight. Her adventure books had never said death was like this! In the stories, death was always clean and painless. What she just witnessed was terrible! It was obscene!

"Stop it, Louise!" Kirche shouted. "Stop acting like a child." Although her voice was stern, the redhead was still trembling. It was obvious that she was shocked and disgusted by what she had just been witness to, but the tall girl was handling the grisly scene much better than Louise was. "Foquet was going to kill us. You, me, Tabitha, our familiars. She got what she had coming to her."

"B-but..." Louise shook her head, attempting to calm herself down. Kirche was right, they both were. Weren't they? Ms. Longueville... no, Foquet, had tried to kill them. Would have killed them, if the Staff of Destruction were still primed. But still... they could have captured her alive, couldn't they? Rip could have easily disarmed the thief, then they could have taken her in! She didn't have to kill her! She didn't, did she?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Tabitha walked by, then bent down to pick up her staff. "We should go," the blue haired girl told her before moving away. She made her way past Rip, giving the familiar a steady glare before reaching down to pick up the Staff of Destruction.

"Tabitha's right," Kirche also came over and picked up both her wand and Louise's. The redhead then handed the focus over to the pink haired girl, who was still openly weeping and trembling. "It's okay, Louise. It'll be okay."

The shorter girl took the wand in her trembling fingers, then hugged it tightly to her body. Her head bent down and she began to cry; she wanted desperately to stop, but she couldn't help herself. She couldn't stop seeing the look of pure terror on Ms. Longueville's face as Rip tore into her, couldn't stop seeing the blood spurt out of the horrific wound her familiar had created.

It was then that she felt someone wrap their arms around her, and at first she thought it was Kirche. But upon looking up, she realized that it was Rip who was embracing her. The girl flinched and whimpered in fear, noticing that the woman's clothes were covered in blood, but when she struggled against the arms they only tightened more.

"I'm sorry," her familiar said simply. She sounded sincere. Didn't she?

Louise couldn't help it. She felt so completely lost and scared, so she cried. She didn't care that Kirche was probably watching her, she didn't care that her mother would be disgusted with her if she ever found out.

She cried for Ms. Longeville. She cried because of all the blood she had just seen. She cried because she weak and utterly useless and childish.

But most of all, she cried because she was completely and utterly terrified of her familiar and what she was capable of.


	14. Chapter 14: Grim Celebration

**XIV. Grim Celebration**

The ride back to the Academy was a quiet one for Louise. By all intents and purposes she should have been giddy. Their little party, for the most part, had succeeded in their mission. They had retrieved the Staff of Destruction. They had stopped the villain, Foquet. And, as a bonus, she even got to ride on Tabitha's dragon.

That was actually one of the reasons for the Valliere girl's sour mood. Once Louise had regained some measure of composure, Kirche suggested that she and Tabitha return to the Academy on Sylphid while Rip and herself took the wagon back. Kirche reasoned that the Headmaster would want the Staff returned as soon as possible despite Rip's insistence that the weapon itself was now useless. The redhead also figured that Louise and Tabitha could fly on ahead in order to tell the authorities that the infamous thief, Foquet, was now dead. They also needed to know that she had actually been the Headmaster's own secretary. Kirche and Rip would take the slower route and use the carriage to transport the treacherous thief's body.

It was blatantly obvious to the pinkette, though, that Kirche had only arranged it so that she and her familiar would be separated. Louise was quite miffed that Kirche, a girl she absolutely despised, had the gall to show her pity. It was insulting.

Yet, at the same time, Louise was silently grateful. At the moment, she really didn't want to be around her familiar. Every time she looked at Rip, her mind would flash back to the horrible sight of the dark haired woman killing Ms. Longueville. Louise kept seeing the fake secretary's look of fear and panic as Rip rushed up towards her. She recalled seeing Longueville's face grimacing in agony when Rip all but skewered her. But the worst part was remembering the thief's sad and regretful stare as the woman gazed back at her whilst Rip held her aloft, impaled through the chest upon the familiar's arm. She remembered the thief's eyes turn blank when life finally left her body.

As soon as the dragon landed upon the Academy's courtyard, Louise excused herself from Tabitha and made her way towards her dorm room, leaving the other girl to make the report to Headmaster Osmond alone. If the blue haired student had any objections, Louise certainly didn't hear them. She marched numbly through the halls of the school, ignoring the aghast looks fellow students gave her when they caught sight of her muddy and disheveled state. She silently prayed that no one noticed the small spots of blood that stained her uniform, smeared there when her familiar had attempted to comfort her during her small breakdown.

Louise tried her best to rationalize her familiar's actions as simply that of a loyal summoned servant protecting its master. Foquet was attempting to murder them, after all. Yet the brutal way the dark haired woman had killed the thief kept popping up in her mind. She didn't want to admit it, but Rip actually seemed to _enjoy_ the callous act. That was perhaps what frightened her the most. How could anyone, no matter how justified, actually take pleasure in ending another's life?

The pink haired girl eventually made her way into her room. After shutting and locking the door, she swiftly tore off her clothing, tossing the mud and blood stained garments onto the floor. She then rushed into the attached restroom, heading straight towards the wash basin. The water was not the freshest as it held the remnants of her wash from this morning, but such a fact didn't matter much to Louise. She splashed the cold water directly onto her face and body, furiously scrubbing at her hands and cheeks, trying to wash away the mud and dirt and blood and everything that had gotten onto her during this entire horrible, dreadful day.

She regretted having volunteered herself for the mission. Although she knew that it had been her duty as a noble of House Valliere to do so, the feelings within her still remained. Louise never thought it would be possible, but right now she absolutely loathed her status. How could anyone be expected to go through such horror? For the first time in her life, she envied the commoners. Though those poor sods led a harsh life, at least they had some measure of freedom in how they led said lives. They didn't suffer from the burden all nobles bore.

After washing away the worst of the filth from herself, Louise dried her somewhat cleaner form with a white towel, one that was folded neatly upon the bureau next to the wash basin. She frowned with disgust afterwards, noting that the once pristine white fabric was now stained a dark gray. She would have to go down to the girls' bathing area and clean herself more thoroughly, but that could wait until later. Right now she felt exhausted from her ordeal and wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed under the sheets and sleep.

She just hoped that when she closed her eyes and drifted into slumber that she wouldn't see Ms. Longueville's last terrifying moments.

0

Rip Van Winkle sighed in bliss as her pale, naked form sank deep into the warm waters of the large pool. The girl's dormitory bathing area was at the moment deserted, and would probably remain that way for the rest of the evening. The Academy was throwing a ball of some sort in order to celebrate the return of the holy Staff of Destruction, so the students would probably be occupied for a while.

Rip sneered; holy relic indeed. The vampire supposed it didn't really matter much, since these idiots could believe whatever they wanted. A slight smirk appeared on her lips at the thought of this world's so-called nobility treating what amounted to an oversized paperweight as a holy item. Now that its payload had been spent, the Staff of Destruction was nothing more than pretty junk to fill up space inside their vaults.

The sniper stretched out her arms over her head, enjoying the heat from the water as it soothed her sore body. It had been a pretty rough day, what with Foquet's stupid mud golem being such a handful and Louise being such a whiny little brat. Part of Rip found the pink haired girl's innocence to be quite endearing, but to make such a big deal out of one lousy thief dying was a bit much. The green haired bitch had planned to kill them, after all. You'd think Louise would have been somewhat grateful for what she'd done. Bah, children. She'd get over it.

It had been quite an annoyance that she wasn't able to get an answer out of the Headmaster, though. Rip was curious as to how a U.S. Army rocket launcher had managed to find itself in the hands of the Academy staff, especially seeing as how the most advanced piece of ordinance in this backwater world seemed to be a black powder cannon. The vampire had been looking forwards to asking Old Osmond about it, but upon hearing news of Foquet's death the old man retired himself into his rooms and refused to take visitors. Rip guessed that the Headmaster had been close to his fake secretary, and was taking the time to grieve for her death. Frankly, she felt somewhat sorry for him. It wasn't the old man's fault that some no good traitor had wormed her way into his school, earning his trust all the while deceiving him. Hell, she deceived everyone.

The vampire's lips turned up into a smile as she recalled the feel of her fingers piercing into the filthy bitch's flesh. Her tongue licked her lips hungrily as she remembered the way Foquet's skin and bone and muscle and sinew ripped open like wet paper, at how warm and wet and tight the woman's insides felt as her arm dug itself deep into the thief's chest cavity. Rip reveled in the look of pain and fear and revulsion in Foquet's eyes as she slowly died, at how her body trembled and shook as the vampire literally squeezed the life out of her from the inside out. It was such a delicious memory, both arousing and hunger inducing.

Truth be told, she had been quite tempted to feed on the dying little trollop. Any vampire would have been tempted, as there had been a lot of blood flowing at the end. But thankfully her disgust won out over her baser instincts and she discarded the green haired vermin like the garbage that she was. Rip absolutely loathed traitors; the thought of taking a traitor's foul blood into her own body made her feel sick.

The vampire lifted one long, slender leg from the water and began to wash the mud from the pale limb. The warm, magical waters served not only to soothe her form but cleanse it as well. The dirt and filth vanished from her skin quite quickly, dissolved in the enchanted waters. Rip raised her hands and noted with a frown that there were still trace amounts of blood left under her fingernails. She then grinned, seeing the humor in the situation; it looked as if even magic couldn't quite get rid of all the evidence of her misdeeds.

Rip took a quick glance across the calm waters of the pool, her eyes narrowing at the dark blue dress folded neatly upon a nearby bureau. She frowned at the overly complicated looking garment. When the celebratory ball had been called, Rip, along with Kirche, Tabitha and Louise had been invited to attend. They were, after all, the ones who brought the infamous thief Foquet to justice, and were to be honored and presented their reward for such a brave and noble act. Louise and Kirche would be granted the title of Chevalier, whilst Tabitha (who already was a knight) would instead be awarded an unspecified monetary compensation. Rip, being not of noble birth, would get nothing. She guessed that the fools believed inviting her to their pathetic little soiree was reward enough for an uncouth commoner like her. They were even kind enough to give her a pretty little dress so that she could play the noble for one night.

"Not bloody likely," Rip sneered, glaring at the offending gown. Sadly, she had no choice but to wear it as her suit was currently being washed and mended by the maid staff. Her poor clothes, unfortunately, were hardly in the best of shape after her return, torn in many places as well as stained with both mud and copious amounts of blood. Rip wondered if Louise's offer of buying her new clothes was still on the table; if not, she might have to continue wearing her increasingly tattered suit. Else, if that didn't work, she'd have to settle for wearing the stupid ball gown.

Ugh, she hated wearing dresses. They were just so... girly. She herself hadn't worn a skirt in over forty years let alone a ball gown. Oh well, it was only for one night. She'd toss away the damn thing as soon as she got her suit back. Besides, no one would see her wearing it as she did not intend to attend their stupid party. She may be a commoner, and a monster at that, but she still had her pride. An officer of Millenium did not settle for paltry bones when they could have the entire cow to feast on.

Rip smiled slightly. It looked like poor Louise wouldn't be seeing her in a dress after all.

The vampire sighed, then leaned back against the wall of the pool, closing her eyes and letting the calming warmth of the mystical waters around her alleviate the sores and troubles of both her mind and body. She made a mental note to make use of these bathing facilities more often, most likely during the night when all the students and staff were asleep.

0

Jean Colbert shook his head regretfully as he looked down upon the still form of Foquet laying on the simple wooden table next to him. The master thief had been responsible for so much trouble, and to finally meet the infamous criminal was quite a shock. This was especially true since the thief's actual identity was that of Ms. Longueville, the Headmaster's own personal secretary. Colbert cursed himself for a fool, having fallen for the beautiful woman's lies and tricks. He himself had been the idiot to tell her all about the vault's defenses, about the outer wall as well as the interior wards. How in blazes could he have been so stupid?

The middle aged instructor directed a glare at the woman's corpse, so motionless on the wooden table, her pale countenance half-covered in a blood-soaked tarp. He had been quite surprised upon seeing the grisly state her body was in. At first, Colbert had been concerned that it may have been Louise who had done it, as her Void magic seemed to be extremely violent and unpredictable. When he learned that it was in fact Miss van Winkle that had killed the thief and not one of the girls, he very much relieved. No child should ever have to be forced to perform such an act, and he was grateful to the human familiar for doing what was necessary, especially after being told how Foquet had been planning to kill all three of his students.

Colbert tried to hate her, he really did. He frowned at the thief's pale, unmoving face, disgusted with himself that even in death he found her to be so remarkably beautiful. He had known her for only a few months, yet in those months she had shown herself to be capable, quite intelligent, and very trustworthy.

All lies, of course. He knew that now, as in hindsight her behavior had been quite peculiar. She was always asking questions that she had no business asking, and at the time he had put it down to mere academic curiosity. Now he knew better. Now he knew that Longueville had been playing them all.

And yet... despite all this, he could not hate her. Regardless of Longuville's maturity and intelligence, she had still been quite young. The thief was perhaps only in her mid-twenties when she finally met her end, not that much older than his own students. The professor wondered, quite sadly, what could have brought such a talented and capable young mage to such dire straights, to become a murderous, thieving criminal, one who had no guilt or compunctions about killing innocent students or betraying her friends?

He shook his head and looked away from the body on the table. "You're getting soft, Colbert," he told himself. The Flame Snake would never have felt such pity towards an enemy. The man sighed once more, then gave the body of Foquet one more remorseful glance. "Goodbye, Ms. Longueville. I'm sorry things had to end this way."

Colbert quickly covered up the dead woman's face with the tarp, then left the storage room. He nodded to the guardsman outside the door, kept there to make sure no over curious students snuck in to peek at the infamous thief's corpse. In the morning soldiers from the palace would take custody of the body; they would probably take her someplace where some bored official would identify the corpse, mark some paperwork, and make it official that the enemy of the Nobility was truly dead. Foquet would then most likely be buried in an unmarked plot, the ultimate fate of all criminals who were executed for crimes against the Crown. Perhaps if she was lucky, a kind priest who would take pity on her and give her body its last rights.

The instructor knew it wasn't likely to happen, but he prayed for it anyway.

0

Kirche's face hurt from all the fake smiling she was doing. It was truly such an annoyance, having to stand here, in an uncomfortable yet fashionable dress, and pretend she was enjoying herself. Especially since all she wanted to do was go to her room and collapse onto her bed, perhaps sleep for two days straight and forget all the events that had happened today.

"It truly amazes me, my dear Kirche, that such a ravishing beauty like yourself was able to defeat a powerful and malevolent force like Foquet," said Allain Chibet, a thoroughly boring third year student from an utterly unimportant noble house in Gallia. She was surrounded by several other male students, most of whom were sneaking glances down the open neckline of her gown.

"Oh, you," the redhead laughed all the while wanting to smack the idiot. She truly was not in the mood for this parody of social intercourse. Usually she loved the attention the horny teenage boys at the Academy would heap upon her, but today had not been a good day. Although she was no stranger to violence, the Germanian still despised the sight of blood. And Kirche had seen a lot of it today.

Yet, despite her foul mood, she opted to attend the celebratory ball out of obligation to her station. She was, after all, being presented with a great honor. To achieve the title of Chevalier, especially at such a young age, was quite the achievement. It would add much prestige to the glorious House of Anhalt-Zerbst. So she would suck it up, smile and bat her eyelashes at the boys and men vying for her affections, and do her duty to her family.

During a lull in the inane conversation, she took a quick glance around the ballroom. The place was lavishly decorated, which was quite impressive considering that the ball itself had only been arranged just a few hours ago. She idly wondered if the Headmaster had ordered the celebratory party before any news of their success even arrived, and Kirche debated whether or not to be proud of the old man's faith in their abilities.

The redhead spotted Tabitha's familiar form over by the banquet table. The blue haired girl was dressed in a modest yellow gown and was, as usual, stuffing her face. Although she didn't act like it, Kirche knew that her friend was just as disturbed as her by the Vallier familiar's display. She was actually a little surprised that anything could bother the stoic bookworm, but she supposed that even Tabitha would be a little freaked out at such a disturbing spectacle of violence.

Kirche was hardly surprised to note that neither Louise nor her familiar had shown up. In Rip's case, it was easy to see why; if she had been refused a reward after taking down a notorious criminal, well, she'd be pretty upset, too. But van Winkle was a commoner, after all, so she should have expected the snub. Honestly, that girl acted well above what her station dictates.

But Louise should definitely have been here. The ball was partly in her honor, after all. Kirche understood that the pink haired girl was upset, but her duty to her house and family should have come first. Honestly, that girl was such a little brat sometimes. How the hell did she expect to gain the respect of her peers if she kept behaving like a spoiled child?

"Good evening, Miss Kirche," a boy, dressed in a fine velvet frock coat and frilly silk shirt bowed in front of her. He gave her a winning smile, or at lest one that he thought was winning since the effect was ruined by the most crooked set of teeth the Germanian had ever seen. "Would you like to dance?"

_I'm tired, my feet are sore in these stupid heels, my willpower's all but drained, this corset itches, I'm hungry and haven't eaten yet, my hair's a mess, and you can't even be bothered to look me in the eyes as yours can not seem to be capable of leaving my breasts, so of course I don't want to dance you you God damned idiot! _

Out loud, she said, "I'd love to," all with a dazzling smile.

0

Guiche de Gramont sighed, wondering what the hell was going on with him. He was dressed to the nines in the latest of Tristainian finery, his hair was as dashing as ever, and with Katie and Montmorency still not giving him the time of day, numerous other interested girls had begun to try to gain his attention. And yet, despite all such good fortune, he still could not seem to shake off the gloom that had settled upon him these last couple of weeks.

He, of course, knew the cause of his anguish. All of his misery had begun during that awful, stupid duel between himself and Louise's criminal of a familiar. Guiche could still not get over the fact that he lost a duel to such an uncouth, uncultured, and shameless gutter trash. How dare that filthy commoner make a fool of him! Everyone was now laughing behind his back, he knew they were! How could he, the son of one of the premier military families in Tristain, be defeated so utterly and completely by not only a lowly commoner, but a woman at that! Such an insult was a massive blow to his masculine pride! It was intolerable!

The young nobleman shook his head, depression sinking deep into his heart. Tonight was supposed to be a night of celebration, but he could never think of it as such. There was a ball in honor of the group that had defeated the vile Foquet, but he could find no reason to celebrate such an event. One of the so-called champions, after all, was that awful, abominable woman who had so humiliated him! How could he even be asked to stand in the same room as her, to watch her smug, petty face smirk at him as everyone in the school celebrated her accomplishment? Each second spent in her vile presence would be like a dagger stabbing into his heart. He could not bear to stand it! Yet his obligation as a member of the nobility as well as a student of the academy forced him to go. Oh, how truly detestable was the fate of the nobleman! To have to swallow one's pride in the face of such injustice! How could God allow such a thing to occur?

And so, here Guiche was, wandering the school grounds in the middle of the night, alone with his thoughts. He was stalling for time, trying to build up the courage to head upstairs to the ballroom and face his upcoming emasculation with some dignity. He was about to enter the gardens, hoping that a quick stroll through the soothing flowers would calm his troubled spirit, when he was stopped short by a strange sound.

Emanating from within the well manicured walls of the gardens was singing. The voice was soft and lilting, feminine and tender. It held an elegance and grace just below the tone, and though the voice was hardly that of a professional singer's it held a form of refinement that was well above that of most bards and performers. This was the voice of someone who truly _loved_ to sing, and it held a beauty that put many opera divas to shame.

Guiche felt himself holding his breath, deathly afraid that to breathe even once might interrupt the sweet, dulcet melody. He found himself softly creeping closer, moving as silently as he could through the garden's soft lawn lest his brutish footsteps interrupt the beautiful song.

_"Wie nahte mir der Schlummer, _

_Bevor ich ihn gesehn? _

_Ja, Liebe pflegt mit Kummer _

_Stets Hand in Hand zu gehn! _

_Ob Mond auf seinem Pfad wohl lacht? _

_Welch schöne Nacht! "_

The words were completely foreign to the young nobleman, though to his ears the lyrics sounded Germanian. He payed the meaning of the song no mind, though, as he kept his full attention to the exquisite melody itself.

_"Leise, leise, Fromme Weise! _

_Schwing dich auf zum Stemenkreise. _

_Lied, erschalle! Feiernd walle _

_Mein Gebet zur Himmelshalle! _

_O wie hell die goldnen Sterne, _

_Mit wie reinem Glanz sie glühn! _

_Nur dort in der Berge Ferne _

_Scheint ein Wetter aufzuziehn. _

_Dort am Wald auch schwebt ein Heer _

_Dunkler Wolken dumpf und schwer. _

_Zu dir wende Ich die Hände, _

_Herr ohn' Anfang und ohn' Ende! _

_Vor Gefahren _

_Uns zu wahren _

_Sende deine Engelscharen!"_

Guiche crept closer. As he rounded a bend in the path cutting through the garden, he saw a figure standing next to the fountain at its center. To his delight, the girl that was the source of the magical melody was quite the alluring sight. She was dressed in an elegant blue gown, one that fit her feminine figure quite well, flattering both her delicate form and aristocratic stance. She was quite tall for a woman and though she was currently facing away from him, this allowed Guiche to admire the long, dark hair that flowed down her slim neck like black silk, the length of her tresses almost touching the hem of her flouncy, ankle-length skirt. . He could tell that her hands were clasped demurely in front of her as she sang up into the heavens above, serenading the two moons floating high in the black sky. The lights from both celestial bodies bathed her exquisite form in soft luminance, imbuing her body with an otherworldly, ethereal air.

_"Alles pflegt schon längst der Ruh? _

_Trauter Freund, wo weilest du? _

_Ob mein Ohr auch eifrig lauscht, _

_Nur der Tannen Wipfel rauscht; _

_Nur das Birkenlaub im Hain _

_Flüstert durch die hehre Stille; _

_Nur die Nachtigall und Grille _

_Scheint der Nachtluft sich zu freun. _

_Doch wie? Täuscht mich nicht mein Ohr? _

_Dort klingt's wie Schritte! _

_Dort aus der Tannen Mitte _

_Kommt was hervor! _

_Er ist's! Er ist's! _

_Die Flagge der Liebe mag wehn!"_

"Oh, what beauty that hath graced mine eyes before tonight were mere imitations to the genuine sight," Guiche whispered to himself as he continued to stare, transfixed, at the girl before him. She was so elegant, so cultivated, so genteel. This was a true Lady, a true noble woman that any man could ever wish or hope for. _Oh please_, he begged silently. _Please turn around so that I may gaze upon your face!_

_"Dein Mädchen wacht _

_Noch in der Nacht! _

_Er scheint mich noch nicht zu sehn! _

_Gott, täuscht das Licht _

_Des Monds mich nicht, _

_So schmückt ein Blumenstrauß den Hut! _

_Gewiß, er hat den besten Schuß getan! _

_Das kündet Glück für morgen an! _

_O süße Hoffnung, neu belebter Mut!"_

As her melodious voice continued to caress his enthralled ears, Guiche held his breath once more when he saw the enchanting creature before him begin to turn. He felt his heart beat heavy in his chest as her graceful form pivoted around as she sang to the stars above, one hand rising, elegant gloved fingers trying to caress the night sky.

And then, the nobleman gasped as the woman's features became clear. She had turned around completely, still singing to the lonely sky, her lips curved upwards in a serene smile. Guiche felt his heart drop, his insides tremble, his fury rise, as recognition slapped him viciously in the face.

It was Valliere's hateful familiar! The girl before him, the one whose voice had so captivated him, was none other than Rip van Winkle, that insufferable, despicable commoner! How dare she trick him like this! How dare she even think of wearing such a flattering, feminine gown! What kind of villainy was this? How could the fates be so cruel as to gift such an unworthy soul like her with such an enchanting voice? Van Winkle was nothing but a filthy common trollop. She was absolutely shameless, abhorrent, impudent, immoral, insolent...

_"All meine Pulse schlagen, _

_Und das Herz wallt ungestüm, _

_Süß entzückt entgegen ihm! _

_Konnt'ich das zu hoffen wagen? _

_Ja, es wandte sich da Glück _

_Zu dem teuren Freund zurück, _

_Will sich morgen treu bewähren! _

_Ist's nicht Täuschung? Ist's nicht Wahn? _

_Himmel, nimm des Dankes Zähren _

_Für dies Pfand der Hoffnung an!"_

Guiche's internal raging slowly died away as he continued watching and listening to the woman before him. His eyes softened as he watched her lithe body slowly dance within the soft embrace of the moons' light, her pale, delicate features looking so innocent and unguarded during this most private of moments. Her long, satiny mane flowed along with her graceful movements, the paleness of her exposed neck and shoulders almost reflecting the soft light around her.

The young noble let out a breath he didn't realize he had held in, all the while continuing to gaze at the dark haired woman while listening to the wonderful aria she was bestowing upon the night. He felt his heart beat harder once more inside his chest, and soon all the depression and melancholy that had so poisoned his spirit quickly melted away. The desolation within him became replaced by another emotion, one that would prove much, much less healthy for the poor boy in the weeks and months to come.

_Love._


	15. Chapter 15: Declaration of War

**XV. Declaration of War**

Fernand of Florin shook his head in disgust as he watched another of his guardsmen stumble out of the farmhouse to disgorge his breakfast onto the grass nearby. "Pitiful," he muttered to himself.

What irritated him most was the fact that the man wasn't even that young, and had probably lived through more than thirty winters. Yet the guard still acted like a boy whose eggs had yet to drop, losing his composure over such a simple scene of blood and death.

Yet, the old guard captain couldn't help but feel a slight bit of sympathy. Fernand had been in the Gallian army during the Albion conflicts, so he was no stranger to violence. He had seen much atrocity in his fifteen years of service; hell, he had committed many such nightmares himself. But the sight inside the farmhouse caused even his hardened stomach to turn a bit.

The inhabitants of the Rasseu farm, Geoffroy Rasseu, his wife Laure, and their infant son Jules, had been all but butchered while they slept. One of Geoffroy's neighbors had found the unfortunate family's mutilated corpses when they had entered the house earlier this morning. Needless to say the neighbor had been quite upset, and almost caused a panic back at the village when he had rushed through the center of town screaming his head off. Fernand and his men arrived some hours later to find all three members of the Rasseu clan sliced to pieces. If that hadn't been enough, the walls within the house had been vandalized with blood, as the murderer or murderers painted strange unknown symbols all over the interior.

Fernand truly had no clue what to make of this madness. The Rasseus were simple farmers who got along with their neighbors. They had no enemies, and weren't wealthy enough to steal from. There was no reason for anyone to break into their home and murder them, especially not with such brutality. If it weren't for the fact that those symbols were painted all over the walls in blood, then Fernand would have believed the killings to have been the work of some wild animal.

He was wondering if perhaps he was in over his head investigating such a strange case. He was but a simple soldier, after all. Frankly, he had been quite happy spending his golden years working an easy job as a small town guard captain. The worst he thought he'd have to handle were some drunk farmers brawling or some runaway cattle. The last thing he expected to be faced with was this bizarre set of multiple murders.

Unfortunately, since he was the head of the local constabulary stationed in this tiny hamlet, the responsibility of finding the culprit or culprits ultimately fell to him. Since no nobles had been killed in the incident, this was purely a local matter and he had no choice but to handle it himself. He couldn't even call for aid from the capital guards if he needed to.

"Captain!" Fernand's thoughts were interrupted when he heard one of his men call out for him. The old soldier turned away from the farmhouse and saw a guardsman escorting a tall man in black robes up the path towards him. The man was obviously a foreigner, as evidenced by his dark skin and black hair. Trailing behind the adults was a small blond boy carrying a large knapsack over his back.

"What's goin' on?" Fernand asked as the guard as he strolled up to the group, his eyes staring at the foreigner with some suspicion. His tiny settlement hardly received any visitors, despite its proximity to the capital city. Most folk bypassed the small hamlets around Tristania as they offered visitors nothing that they could not get at the capital itself.

The tall man was garbed completely in black, except for his collar which was strangely white. Hanging from his neck was a silver pendant of some symbol Fernand had never seen before. His face was stern and hard, the eyes black as granite. Overall the tall man had the air of a soldier to him, and Fernand admitted that he would not wish to get into a fight with him, even if he was still young enough to be brawling.

Before the guardsman escorting the dark man could speak, the tall foreigner reached into his robes and pulled out a piece of parchment. He flipped it open and Fernand's eyes immediately focused onto the Papal Seal stamped officially at the bottom. The captain grew even more nervous when he saw that Pope Victor himself had signed the document.

"I am Father Renaldo Montoya, Office of the Inquisition of the Grand Holy Church of Romalia."

Fernand paled. What the hell was the Inquisition doing here, in his tiny little unimportant village? "M-my apologies, Yer Eminence," the guard captain said, pulling off his hat and bowing as a sign of respect. He wasn't exactly sure about the proper way to address a Church Inquisitor, but he hoped something grandiose would be sufficient. "If I'da known that a member o' the Church was comin' I woulda had someone meet ya."

"It's fine," the foreign priest stated, waving off his concerns. "I was merely passing through on my way to the capital when I heard about the... incident here."

"Truly?" Fernand almost chuckled. Here he was thinking that he was in over his head, and what happens? A bloody Church Inquisitor pops up out of nowhere showing interest in his case. God truly does work in mysterious ways.

"Indeed. Can you tell me the specifics of what happened here?"

The captain placed his hat back atop his head, then turned towards the farmhouse. "Well, sir, it's all quite strange. The Rasseus, er, the family who lived here, weren't really important or nothin. They was just regular folk, ya know? Their farm was small, but it did well enough. They didn't own anythin' that anybody would steal or kill for. I'm really at me wit's end here for a motive. But what really got me spooked is them symbols that the maniacs painted on the walls in blood."

The priest raised an eyebrow. "Symbols?"

"Yes, sir, Yer Eminence. Some weird rune or lettering or somethin. I ain't really an expert on that magical stuff, so you might have better luck figurin' it out."

The foreigner nodded, his eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze over towards the house. "May I see the scene?"

"O' course. Come this way, please," Fernand began to walk towards the farmhouse.

"Stay here, Sergio," the priest told the young boy as he followed the old guardsman.

"Si, Father."

Fernand led the tall man over towards the front porch of the house. He was about to warn him about the grisly nature of the murder scene when the priest suddenly stopped in his tracks. The captain glanced back at the man, wondering why he had stopped, when he saw the priest's eyes widened in shock. Fernand looked towards the house to see what had caused the Inquisitor to become so spooked when he saw the large red symbol painted in blood upon the door.

"Oh, yes," the guard said. "That's the sigil I was talkin' about before. The crazy freaks painted the same thing all over the walls inside. Quite bizarre iffen ya ask me." He turned back to the priest who had managed to regain his composure. The dark man's eyes had narrowed and a grim frown etched its way onto his face. "Something wrong, Yer Eminence?" Fernand asked. "Tha' symbol... do you know what it means?"

"Yes." The priest nodded dourly. "It is a declaration of war."

The old guardsman blinked in confusion. "War, sir?"

"Yes." Father Montoya turned his dark eyes towards the captain. "The bodies. Are they still intact?"

"What? Oh, uh, no, sir,Yer Eminence. The murder... he chopped 'em to pieces. All of 'em. It's quite 'orrifyin. They even hacked apart the baby, those damn animals."

To Fernand's bewilderment, the priest had a look of relief on his face. "I see," the foreigner stated simply. "Have your men collect the bodies. Make sure to retrieve all the pieces. Then burn them."

"B-burn them, sir?" Fernand was quite shocked.

"Yes. Afterwards, I will bless their bones and give the poor souls a proper burial."

"Uh, yes, sir." Burn the bodies? What the hell for? Fernand had never heard of any Church practice like that before. "Um, what about the house?"

Father Montoya was silent for a moment as he contemplated the question. Finally after a few moments of thought, he shook his head. "Burn it as well. The barn, too. And any animals they may have. Burn it all to the ground."

"Burn it all, sir?" The captain asked again, still dumbstruck by the order. This was all quite out of the ordinary. What if the Rasseu's relatives wanted to take custody of the farm and the family's belongings? Burning an entire farm just seemed... excessive.

And yet regardless of his reservations, Fernand would still follow the priest's orders. He had been a soldier all his life, and knew to defer to the wisdom of his betters. And frankly, in his eyes, there were no superiors above those of God's servants in the Church, except perhaps Brimir and the Almighty Himself.

"Yes, all of it. This place has been tainted with evil, captain. Only the fire's embrace will purify the darkness." Father Montoya turned his black eyes back to the front door and the scarlet symbol splattered upon it. "Rest assured, though. The one who committed this heinous act will taste the heat of the flames as well. This... beast will not escape justice. He or she can run to the edges of this world, but they can not run forever. No one escapes God's wrath for long."

Fernand swallowed, suddenly nervous at being so close to the foreign priest. The words the man spoke were grim, but what spooked him most was that he spoke with such conviction. The guard knew that the priest truly believed every word he said would come to fruition. That he would track down and punish the murderers, and that it was a simple matter of time until they were dead at his feet.

Frankly, that suited Fernand fine. If the Church wanted to take jurisdiction of this case away from him, he sure as hell didn't mind. He knew that he was out of his element when it came to this strange murder investigation, and the captain was quite relieved to have someone else dealing with it. Besides, the priest, though a foreigner, was a member of the Romalian Inquisition. Fernand knew that they always got the job done. They had God's will by their side, after all.

The old captain saluted the priest, then rushed off to perform his instructions. He began hollering at his men to get out some torches, and assembled a few of the ones with the stronger stomachs to collect the bodies and arrange them in a neat pile.

While the preparations went underway, Father Montoya remained standing where he was. He continued to glare at the hateful symbol upon the farmhouse door, one that was a universal symbol for humanity's evil where he came from. A feeling of both fury and exhilaration pumped through his veins. It had been such a long time since he had last performed his original duty, and though he had been quite content working for this world's Pope and fulfilling God's work on this world, he felt joy at the prospect of committing one last undertaking for his old order. This would prove to be his swansong mission, one last job he would do for Vatican Special Section XIII before finally allowing that chapter of his life to close.

_Soon, vampire. _The Black Priest mused to himself. _Soon you shall face Divine Punishment. _


	16. Chapter 16: Dead Soul

**XVI. Dead Soul**

_The vampire sat still and silent in the dark room, her thin form garbed only in a tattered and bloody hospital gown. Her wrists and ankles were clamped in thick iron manacles, though these were merely for the benefit of the jailers since everyone knew that she could easily break through the restraints. Long dark hair hung over her pale features, shrouding all but her glowing blue eyes in the shadows cast by the wan light of the lone iridescent bulb hanging overhead. The walls of the room were covered in once-white tile. Both time and neglect had caused them to become cracked and yellow, while the few missing tiles left bare plaster exposed to the dim yellow light. _

_The vampire was seated upon a cold metal chair next to a rugged metal table. Like the room she was in, both pieces of furniture were old and much abused. The tabletop, once pristine and shiny, was now marred with numerous scratches, stains and dents. The sad thing was that the vampire actually remembered this very room and its furnishings when they had been new and immaculate. That had been so long ago, though, when Millenium had first taken possession of this facility. How many years had it been, exactly? Twenty? Thirty? She couldn't quite remember. All the years seemed to blend together in her mind. That had been what her life was like after the war: one long, unending haze. _

_That is, until she became a vampire. When she had given up her humanity, the peaceful tranquility of self-imposed exile ended to make way for the blood, the screams, and the nightmares. _

_The lone door into the windowless, dilapidated room slammed open without warning. From the gaping portal entered the Major, still spry in both mind and body despite the decades of hardship hiding out in the jungles of South America. The vampire almost shot up out of her seat to stand at attention, but for some reason held herself back. Was it because of the chains? Maybe. Yes, it was the chains. She didn't wish to break them. _

_The old man, still resplendent in his Waffen SS uniform, sighed sadly as he looked over her ragged state. "First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle. You disappoint me."_

_The vampire flinched, her face burning in shame. After all these decades, she still hated to upset her superior. He, and the glorious ideals of the Millenium Group, were all that she had left, after all. _

_"I'm sorry," she murmured. Even to her ears, the apology sounded pathetic. _

_The Major shook his head, the frown on his chubby face deepening. "What happened there, exactly? You were doing so well."_

_The vampire grit her teeth in both fury and frustration as she remembered the previous night's mission. It was to have been a simple test of her new abilities, what amounted to an elementary operation. The Major's scouts had reported spotting a village of leftists in the jungles nearby. Such a settlement, one composed of people neither the local populace nor the authorities would miss, was quite ideal for Millenium's purposes. She had been ordered to wipe them out, to kill and feed and basically enjoy herself. And she had done so, for the most part. She slaughtered the guerillas without mercy, drinking of their blood as her new body demanded, gorging on their life essence in order to strengthen her own. Throughout the carnage, the Doktor was gaining valuable bits of data from the chip inside of her, which recorded and transmitted back to Millenium headquarters. All had been going according to plan._

_And then she saw the children. There were three of them, huddled together in one of the tents, shaking with absolute terror. The three had obviously seen what she had done to their parents, seen the almost orgiastic joy she had exhibited as her teeth and claws tore the men and women apart. Their innocent eyes saw her as a monster, and they were right._

_As soon as the vampire saw their pale, accusing stares, her blood lust vanished. All she could see was the horror reflected in their big, wide eyes, and for the first time in decades she felt shame seize her. The thrill of the kill, the ecstasy of the slaughter, the pleasure from the blood; all of it disappeared, as if blown away like ash on the wind. She felt like a child herself being caught by adults after doing something she wasn't supposed to. _

_The vampire remembered screaming then, her voice full of shame and horror as it echoed throughout the night. She remembered running, her long legs dashing through the thick vines and bushes, her thin arms tearing through saplings and brush. She had no idea how long she had run, only that she felt complete and utter loathing at herself as she remembered the wide, baleful gaze of those children in the camp. _

_Her mad dash through the jungle was finally halted when the Captain caught up with her. Since the man didn't age like the rest of the original Millenium personnel, the vampire had always suspected that he wasn't quite as human as he appeared. Her concern was proven correct when the tall man swiftly and easily incapacitated her. All it took were two mighty blows from his fists, and even she, with her newly enhanced strength and speed, could not match him. She woke up as she was now, chained and in rags, in the ruined tile room, staring shamefully at the Major as he shook his head in disappointment at her. _

_"I am sorry, Major. I was weak," she told her leader, feeling utterly disgraced. She was an officer of Millenium, for God's sake! How could she act like such a coward? _

_The old officer merely chuckled, then gave the vampire a small shrug of his shoulders. "Oh, it's fine. Don't be too hard on yourself, First Lieutenant. You are, after all, the first of your kind. The first artificially created vampire! The first in an eventual long line. It comes to me as no surprise that there would be... ahem, hiccups along the way. That's what the testing phase is for, after all. To iron out the wrinkles in the plan." He then gave her a grin, one that caused his aged lips to widen as the lenses of his glasses reflected the light from the room's bulb brightly. _

_The vampire looked away, feeling a slight tingle of fear. Although she loved the Major like a father, every time he looked at her like that, she became afraid. It was the same stare a cat would give a cornered mouse. _

_"Tell me, First Lieutenant," the Major spoke up. "Do you trust me?"_

_Her eyes suddenly widened in shock, and she looked up at him sharply. "Of course, Major!" she stated stiffly, a slight tone of bewilderment to her voice, like she was aghast that he would even think of asking her such a thing. "I trust you with my life!"_

_"Good! Good!" The old man clapped his gloved hands, seeming very pleased. "Doktor!"_

_The scientist shuffled into the room through the open door, his multi-lensed spectacles making him look like a spider skittering towards her. The years had not been kind to the Doktor, as decades of rigorous research and experimentation with numerous hazardous materials had all but ruined his body. He looked decades older than his years. But, if the vampiric conversion process could be proven to be a success, and perhaps even improved, then all the sacrifices the Doktor had performed would be worth it. _

_"Do you have it?" The Major asked._

_"Yes," the scientist passed something to the officer, who in turn placed the object atop the table and in front of the vampire._

_She looked down and eyed the small amber bottle wearily. Through the dark glass she could see tiny white pills, each about the size of a small beetle. _

_"The concentration should be within parameters of your body's new chemical balance," the Doktor stated as he flipped through a clipboard of notes. "I also took into consideration your numerous new organs and cybernetic implants. From the data I collected from the chip, your cloned organs show zero degradation and the implants are all working within specification. It's all quite remarkable. Thus, the mixture I prepared should work." The physician then glanced up from the notes and looked her dead in the eye. "Just make sure to take the pills every day. It is imperative that you not miss a dose, as the chemical balance must be strictly maintained. If it is off even by the slightest bit, it could have drastic consequences on your system."_

_The vampire frowned down at the pills on the table, not liking the Doktor's stern warnings. "But... what exactly are they for? What are they supposed to do?"_

_The Major choked, stifling a laugh. "Oh, my dear. What do they do? Well, it's quite simple." The old man gave her another one of his eerie smiles. "These wonderful little pills will destroy your soul."_

_The vampire felt a tinge of apprehension rise up from within her chest, but with a vicious effort she forced the weak emotion down. She was fed up with looking weak in front of her comrades and superiors, tired of her human frailties. She wanted all her weaknesses gone, to become the monster that she truly was. _

_Rip Van Winkle gave the Major a mirthless smirk of her own, then stated, "Is that all, sir? I gave up such a worthless thing a long time ago."_

_This time the Major allowed himself to laugh._

0

Rip Van Winkle burst out of her cot, her limbs somewhat tangled in her blankets as she attempted to struggle up to her hands and knees. Pain wracked her mind, the haze of sleep still clinging to her psyche as she struggled against the coverings wrapped around her. Eventually she tore through the cloth in her mad scramble, crawling on hands and knees to the corner of the pitch-black room whereupon she began to heave. Her mind was in a state, as it had been for the last few days. Waking every morning was agony as she suffered through both nausea and the brutal migraines brought on by the effects of the pill. The Doktor had warned her that not taking the medicine regularly could have dire effects on her body, and now she was suffering the consequences.

The vampire continued to heave and cough until eventually her efforts were rewarded. From her mouth erupted a stream of dark red blood which splattered against the stone wall and floor. Rip whimpered as her stomach roiled, threatening to spill over again. Several long minutes passed with the vampire choking and gasping, but she avoided having to vomit again. Eventually her stomach settled and the nausea subsided, though her head still ached terribly.

"Scheisse," she muttered, and used a shaky hand to wipe the scarlet filth from her chin.

Rip had gone off the pill before, but her body's reactions had never been this bad. Admittedly, this was the first time she had taken just one pill without restarting her regular medication cycle. It had been five days since she had killed Foquet, and in those five days Louise still refused to see her. The young noblewoman had all but sequestered herself inside her dorm room, refusing to leave except to attend classes. Rip supposed it was for the best, as she didn't want Louise to see her in such a state. Every morning, for five days straight, she woke up feeling like an atomic bomb had just exploded inside her skull. The worst had been the first morning after the effects of the pill wore off; she had been deathly ill all day, her body feeling as if it had been set on fire. Thankfully, as time passed, her bouts of sickness seemed to lessen as her body's chemical makeup balanced itself out.

She had been extremely tempted to take another pill during those bad mornings, just to make the pain stop. But worse than the pain was the knowledge that eventually, the dreams would return. And with them the memories. She would suffer a million such mornings as these, if only those damn memories would stay away. She didn't want to remember

_Long strands of golden hair stained by the scarlet flow, spurting from the wound in the girl's skull._

_The heavy weight of the Luger P08 in her hand, the smell of the powder wafting up from the smoking barrel, the shouts of anger and shock from the people around her._

_The feel of her father's unshaven face against her ear as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."_

"No!" Rip snarled as her fist smashed against the wall, the sheer force of the blow causing numerous cracks to form in the hard stone. She also felt several of the bones in her hand shatter from the impact, but she took no heed of the pain. In fact, she welcomed it. The pain focused her mind, brought it out of the haze of the past, and forced the unwanted memories bubbling up from the depths of her psyche back into the shadows where they belonged.

"My soul is dead," she murmured to herself. "My soul is DEAD!"

_Three pills left._

0

Guiche de Gramont smiled as he took in the warmth of the sun overhead. It was such a nice, quiet day out. The birds were singing, the flowers were in bloom, and there was not a cloud in the sky. Such a perfect morning would only be better with a nice cup of tea and slice of cheese cake. The noble looked around the courtyard, glancing at the other students seated upon nearby tables before he spotted a maid with one of the food trolleys. He signaled for her and soon the young common woman was laying the tea and cake upon his table before bowing respectfully. Guiche was in such a good mood that he even gave the peasant a nod in thanks.

"Huh, you're in a fair mood," Malicorn stated as he watched his friend smiling to himself. Truth be told, he had been quite worried for the other boy's state of mind, as his friend's usual flair for life had been all but absent since he had lost the duel with Vallier's awful familiar.

Guiche gave the rotund boy a smile. "Oh, dear Malicorn. Why should I not be? The morning is beauteous, the food is plentiful, and we are both young and healthy. Life is good, my friend."

Malicorn raised an eyebrow before suddenly smiling upon a revelation. "Oho, I see. So Montmorency has forgiven you, has she?"

The blond boy merely sneered. "Hardly. The fair Lady Montmorency still does not deign to speak to me, despite my attempts at apologizing. Honestly, such childish behavior from a noblewoman." Guiche chuckled. "Then again, what can one expect from such immature little girls?"

"Huh?" Now Malicorn truly was confused. Guiche had never talked about Montmorency like that before. In fact, the fop had always been ready to defend the blond girl if anyone ever spoke badly of her. "Um, does this mean that you've decided to go after that first year? The brunette, what was her name?"

"Ah, the fair Katie," Guiche said with a smile. He then quickly shook his head. "But no, I am afraid such young, sophomoric girls do not strike my fancy any longer. Not when there are real women about."

"Real women?" Malicorn looked over at his owl, hoping that his familiar would have some idea as to what the blond boy was talking about. Unfortunately, the owl merely tilted its head, looking just as confused as its master.

"Yes, real women," Guiche nodded, sipping at his tea. "We are men, my dear Malicorn, not boys any longer. We must look past the current stable of giggling schoolgirls and to the fine selection of grown-up, cultivated older women. More mature, sophisticted women. The ones in full bloom! The ripe, fully... developed women." The noble coughed and discreetly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to dab at some blood leaking from his nose.

"Oh, I get it," Malicorn stated, then frowned. "Please tell me you are seriously not thinking of going after one of the teachers. I mean, even you can't be that shameless..."

"Oh, hush!" Guiche chided, sounding slightly annoyed. "Honestly, Malicorn. I thought you better than to think me capable of such depravity. I mean, seriously, none of the female faculty is even that attractive. Except for that villainous traitor, Ms. Longueville, none of the learned professors or staff at this Academy are beautiful enough to hold my attention. Nay, only one fair maiden at this school possesses the elegance and refinement required to catch my eyes."

Malicorn's chubby face scrunched up as he fell into deep thought, trying his best to figure out just who the hell Guiche was talking about. Elegance and Refinement? Older woman? Who, if not one of the female professors, could fit such a description? His deductive reasonings were interrupted when he saw a familiar figure step out of the main building and onto the courtyard.

"Oh," he stated flatly. "Look. It's the Zero's ghastly familiar. Where do you think she's been hiding?"

Guiche felt his heart begin to thud heavily in his chest. He swiftly directed his wide eyes towards the woman in question, his breath hitching once he caught sight of her. The boy frowned, somewhat concerned to note that she looked paler than usual, though that in no way detracted from her simple yet remarkable beauty. She was dressed in her signature dark, shapeless attire and still carried that unsightly awful firearm; yet for all the rest of his days, Guiche would never forget how she looked on the night of the ball, resplendent in that dark blue gown. He knew that hidden under all that tattered and masculine garb was a woman of delicate charm, a true symbol of propriety and sophistication. Oh, how he longed to see her dressed in elegant dresses again, to hear her melodious voice once more.

Rip van Winkle. Ah, was it truly such a short a time ago that he thought the name to be so uncouth and unfeminine? Oh, what a fool he had been! Now, to his ears, they were the most sumptuous of phrases.

"I swear," Malicorn continued talking, "Valliere needs to control her plebian. Such a rabid dog needs to be held in a tighter leash."

"How dare you!" Guiche all but shouted, drawing some stares from nearby tables. The blond boy lowered his tone, though his voice still held a bit of anger. "Malicorn, I demand you take back such foul slander. Do not speak of the fair Lady van Winkle in such a manner."

"W-what?" the rotund boy looked at Guiche like he had just grown a second head. "Have you gone completely insane, Guiche? Why are you, of all people, defending Louise the Zero's nutso familiar? Didn't she totally humiliate you during your duel?"

"Indeed she did," the blond fop admitted. He then smiled. "And that just shows what a truly noble and talented individual she is."

"Noble? Guiche, come on, you're speaking of a lowly commoner."

"Oh please, Malicorn. Do tell me that you don't truly believe in Valliere's lies."

"Uh, what?" The rotund boy was now truly confused.

"Think about it for a moment. There is no way that the Lady van Winkle can be a mere commoner," Guiche slowly explained. "Her talent with the musket, her speed and dexterity while doing battle. Do you honestly believe that a simple plebian could defeat not only me in a duel, but manage to slay the mighty thief Foquet as well?" The blond shook his head and chuckled, taking a quick break from his explanation to sip at his tea. After downing a hearty gulp, he continued his tirade. "No, these are not the acts of a mere common woman. A filthy commoner would never have the courage to stand up to nobility. They are simple creatures like dogs or cattle, possessing no virtue that we nobles would hold dear. Nay, dear Malicorn, the woman who stands before us is a noblewoman of the truest form, of that fact I am certain. She is likely the unfortunate victim of circumstance, perhaps losing her noble title through no fault of her own. Yes! She, being the fair and proper damsel, was most likely being forced by her father to marry some oafish lord not worthy of her hand, and thus she fled from her vast estates, giving up her family name, in order to remain true to herself and find true love!" Guiche clasped his hands together as he closed his eyes, imagining in his mind the sight of the young Rip van Winkle, dressed in noble finery, dashing through the dark woods to escape her dire fate. "Oh such a romantic yet tragic tale!" Tears began to drip down his cheeks.

Whilst Guiche babbled on, Malicorn rubbed his chin, deep in thought. "You know, that actually makes sense. I mean, not the weird crap at the end, but the stuff about van Winkle being a noble. I think you may be on to something! There's no way a commoner could beat a noble. It's impossible. She has to be a noble herself, it's the only explanation that makes sense. Yeah, she's a disgraced noble forced to live as a mercenary to get by. Or maybe Zero herself is forcing her to keep quiet about her status, so that she won't get in trouble for kidnapping a fellow noblewoman!" Malicorn sounded quite excited, and with good reason. One of his favorite things was reading spy stories, and the best thing about spy stories were the conspiracy theories they presented. To think that there may be one such conspiracy right here at this very Academy! It was wild!

Meanwhile, Guiche was watching the dark form of Valliere's human familiar as she made her way through the courtyard and to her master's table. "I swear on my life, my dear Lady van Winkle," he whispered. "I will do everything in my power to save you from your dire fate."

If only the boy knew just how dire that fate actually was.

0

Rip cringed slightly as she stepped out of the main Academy building and onto the bright, sunlit courtyard outside. For the past several days she had all but sequestered herself in the dark bowels of the school, coming out only for a few hours in her attempts to speak with Louise. Her eyes stung from the light, and she felt her pale skin tingling from the heat of the sun. Despite her discomfort, the vampire forced herself to step into the daylight. She had sensed that Louise was out here this morning, and she was determined to speak to the girl. Although her memory from the day after taking the pill was hazy, she distinctly remembered killing Foquet right in front of Louise and her classmates. Not only did she kill the thief, but she did so in such a brutal and vicious a manner that it would have been quite traumatic for her naive young master to witness. Even worse, Rip probably made that irritating little brat Tabitha even more suspicious of her, and perhaps her red haired harlot friend suspected something as well.

_Stupid,_ the vampire chided herself. If Rip had been in the right state of mind at the time, she would have done things much differently. Unfortunately, the blood lust had gotten the best of her. It would have been smarter to let the foolish thief go, then track her down later that evening to make the kill. With her rune-enhanced sixth sense and speed, it would have been a simple task to find Longueville wherever she would have run off to. Rip highly doubted that the traitor could have gotten very far, not with a determined vampire on her tail.

There were still three pills left. Rip was at a loss as to what to do. Taking the pill in the first place had proven foolish; they were designed to be taken in regular doses, and any alteration to the scheduled intake produced dire consequences. Her erratic, overtly violent behavior was one such consequence, the ensuing pain and illness the morning after being the other. There was no way she could possibly take the risk of ingesting the rest, could she?

_Blond hair stained red._

_Heavy pistol smoking in her hand._

_Her father's pained voice in her ear._

The dark haired woman quickly shook her head, banishing the flash of images within her mind. She _would not_ remember. She would suffer a million such mornings that she had endured today in order to keep from remembering. As for Tabitha and that fool Kirche, if they ever found out her secret, well... it would be a simple matter to kill them in their sleep. She would kill _anyone_ who suspected, slaughter the entire damn school if she had to. Yes, all these problems, these side-effects to the pills, were easily handled for a monster like her.

Her soul was dead, after all.

Yes. She would continue taking the pills. But she had to ration them. She had to take them when the dreams just became too much to bear. Keep them for later. Keep them for when

_**"You're not fooling anyone, let alone me, little Jude. I can see RIGHT THROUGH YOU."**_

Terror seized her form upon the recollection of those dark words, spoken in a deep, clear voice, directly into her ear so long, long ago. She remembered the bite of the the barbed wire that bound her, the blackness of that horrible coffin, but most of all, the fierce, unholy hunger in the monster's scarlet eyes as it stared into her own. Rip forced her eyelids closed, and pushed with whatever mental strength she had left, forcing herself to forget, forcing herself to banish the terrifying presence from her mind.

It took a few minutes for the sniper to compose herself, to calm her mind enough so that her body would stop its fearful trembling. Once satisfied that she had found her bearing, the dark haired woman opened her eyes and looked around the courtyard. Thankfully, the pitiful nobles around her had been too busy with their pathetic little lives to even have noticed her much less her near psychotic break. Satisfied that no one had seen her weakness, the vampire quickly refocused her attention.

_Enough with the brooding,_ Rip told herself. _Find Louise._

The sniper adjusted her new glasses (the ones she had stolen from Foquet) before swiftly marching across the lawn in the direction she sensed Louise to be. The tall woman eventually found her summoner seated alone at a table, reading a small book and drinking a half empty cup of tea. The young girl looked up at her approach, and upon seeing her, quickly brought her gaze back down to the pages of the book in her hands.

Rip sighed. Why did her little master always wish make things so much more difficult than they had to be? Stifling her urge to just smack the child up the side of her head, the vampire coughed politely into a gloved hand before speaking. "Guten morgan, Louise. May I sit vith you?"

The pink haired girl gave a shrug of her slight shoulders, before replying in an unconcerned tone. "Do as you wish."

It surprised Rip, but the girl's casual brush-off actually _hurt._ The vampire bit her lip before seating herself in the chair opposite of the young noblewoman, clutching her musket in her arms like a child would clutch a stuffed animal for comfort. "Are you angry vith me, Louise?" Rip asked with an anxious tone.

"No," the girl said simply, still reading her book.

_LIAR!_ Rip wanted to shout out, but she refrained. Instead, the vampire bowed her head and said in a conciliatory tone, "I'm sorry."

"Humph," Louise grunted, turning the page of her book.

"Damn it, Louise!" Rip finally growled out her frustration. "I know you're angry, but at least look at me, for God's sake."

"Look at you?" The pink haired girl asked softly. Her voice had a slight tremor to it, as if she was holding back an abundance of emotion and was only slightly successful at doing so. "I can't look at you, Rip, that's the problem. Every time I do, all I see is what you did to Ms. Longueville. The fear and pain in her eyes, the blood on your hands. Y-you murdered her, right in front of me..."

"I had to!" Rip whispered harshly, not wanting to draw the attention of the other students nearby. "Verdammt! She tried to kill you! I... I just... I could not forgive such a sing." Rip paused for a moment, shocked at her own words. They were a revelation even to her ears. The vampire suddenly realized that she had been angry at Foquet, incredibly angry, and not just for the usual reasons. True, the woman was a traitor, and she had been under the pill's violent effects. But Rip now understood that the true reason for her fury, the real reason why she had killed the woman, was that the thief had put Louise's life in danger.

_My soul is dead._

The vampire frowned, her eyes looking down at her left hand. Could it be the familiar runes? Were they affecting her behavior in some way? They had to be, why else would she be feeling this way? Or was it because Louise reminded her of

_Blond hair stained red._

The vampire choked down a sob, felt a sting in her eyes. Not now. Not now.

Louise, for her part, felt utterly confused at her familiar's words. She had been all set to hate the woman, as she had frightened her terribly when she had so cruelly and coldly murdered another human being in front of her. Rip had killed in cold blood, but knowing the reason as to why she had done so, that it had been for her sake, made Louise feel both ashamed and gratified at the same time. She was ashamed because a life had been taken needlessly; yet she was grateful because no one had ever shown her such loyalty before. The young girl turned away from her familiar, her eyes and cheeks now wet with tears. What the hell was wrong with her?

Both master and familiar sat there at the table in total silence. All around them the other students of the Academy laughed and chatted with their friends, enjoying the bright, sunlit morning. Butterflies and humming birds danced about in the air, and a cool, soothing breeze blew through the flowers, bringing their sweet fragrance to everyone there. Eventually, Louise wiped at her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her uniform. Once satisfied that they were dry, she turned her eyes back to her familiar and spoke.

"No more killing."

Rip blinked, Louise's voice snapping her out of her hazy thoughts. "V-vat?"

"No more killing," the young Valliere repeated, her tone brokering no argument. "If you are to remain my familiar, there shall be no more killing, of anyone, unless I give my permission. Is that clear?"

"Yes, uv course, anything you say!" Rip lied.

"Give me your word."

The dark haired woman swallowed, licking her dry lips before speaking. "I swear, as an officer of Millenium, zat I vill not kill anyone unless my master, Louise Valliere, tells me to." More lies.

"Good," Louis said simply. Silence descended upon both master and familiar once more, but this time it was Rip who broke it.

"I truly am sorry, Louise," she said.

"Somehow, I doubt that," muttered the young student as she remembered the older woman's almost sadistic glee as she killed Ms. Longueville.

"No, I didn't mean zat I vas sorry for killing," her familiar told her, blue eyes sharp behind the stolen spectacles. "Foquet vas a traitor, and tried to kill you. She deserved her fate." Rip's voice softened as she continued. "What I meant vas that I was sorry zat you had to see vat I did. I did not mean to frighten you, I vas just not thinking straight at ze time."

Louise nodded. Truth be told, she had already decided to forgive her familiar. Yet deciding to do something and doing it for real were two very different things. She tried to work up the nerve to do so, but she just could not find the courage to face up to her familiar, not after the horror that she saw. Perhaps this conversation would help her see the older woman as something other than a monster. Louise hoped this would be the case, anyway.

"A-are you... still angry vith me?" Rip asked, looking very much like a kicked puppy at the moment.

Louise forced herself, with much difficulty, to smile. "No, no. Of course not. Not anymore." This time it was the master who had lied.


End file.
